Sweet Moments Vanish
by Ziva- Zia- Z
Summary: With a new ruler taking the throne, comes a new dawn. A former missing princess, who's own family is growing out of the ashes of a fallen dynasty. And a family secret comes back to wreak havoc. Will she accept it, or let it destroy her family before it's even begun? 3rd in the Fliaanian Royals series.
1. Chapter 1

**Sweet Moments Vanish**

 **Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **Summary: With a new ruler taking the throne, comes a new dawn. A former missing princess, who's own family is growing out of the ashes of a fallen dynasty. A** **nd a family secret comes back to wreak havoc. Will she accept it, or let it destroy her family before it's even begun? 3rd in the Fliaanian Royals series.**

 **A/N: So this story _actually_ takes place right after Traper's assassination. It follows Trism and Elphaba's coronation and the beginning of their family. Written: 2005, actually. Found: 2017. - Licia**

 _1929_

She allowed the maid to finish with her hair before waving the young girl away. Once the maid was gone, she stood, going to her husband, who was standing at the window, lost in thought. Silently, she slid an arm through his, resting her head against his shoulder.

"I don't know that I'm ready for this, Fabala. My father was a great king, he was loved by all of the Vinkus. I don't know that I'll be able to live up to him-"

"You aren't meant to live up to your father, Tris." She replied, turning him to face her. "Yes, your father was a great king, but that doesn't mean you _won't_ be. You have just as much potential if not _more_ to become as great a king or greater than your father was. You need to be willing to give yourself that chance, my love."

He sighed, bringing her hands up to kiss the knuckles. "Fabala, I know you're empress of Fliaan, but... say you'll be my consort, please, I... I don't know that-"

She rested a finger against his lips. "You are not playing this game alone, my darling." She cradled his cheek, kissing him softly. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her to him; the kiss deepened, and she slid an arm around his neck.

They had been through so much in the last year- a hastily arranged marriage, the heartbreak of a miscarriage, the assassination of the Vinkun king, not to mention that she had been missing for ten years- the only surviving _Kauri_ of the last Fliaanian dynasty, the House of Thropp, found by a prince turned con artist and returned to take her place as empress, presiding over Parliament in her home country- and still, somehow, managed to slowly carve their own path in life. But this... this was new.

With King Traper's assassination in November of nineteen-twenty-eight, and the oldest son, Fiyero, having disappeared not long after restoring Elphaba to her rightful place, the throne fell to the youngest son, Trism. The prince had married Elphaba, who had been briefly married to his brother, until he had walked away after she'd regained her memory and what was left of her family.

It had gone from an arranged marriage to a love match in a matter of a few weeks; it was evident to all who saw them that the young Vinkun prince and his Fliaanian empress were deeply, passionately in love. Similar to Frexpar and Melena Thropp- Elpahba's parents- or Locasta and Traper Tigelaar- Trism's parents- before them, their marriage was started by arrangement, and built on love; it was clear, that their love would build an empire, continue a dynasty, unlike the Thropps before them. Elphaba knew what was said about her beloved parents; that their love had ended an empire, and she was determined _not_ to follow in their footsteps.

She loved her husband, but she would not allow that love to cloud her judgement, to make her weak, or repeat her parents' mistakes. She would not allow her family to face the firing squad, as she, her parents and siblings had that horrendous night nearly eleven years earlier. Fliaan deserved a strong ruler, even if she was only empress in name only, and a strong ruler she would be. Just as Trism would be a strong ruler in the Vinkus.

As the only surviving immediate family member of what was once one of the strongest, oldest dynasties in Oz, Elphaba held all the cards. The other royal houses bowed to her, as they had her mother before her; they would not undermine her position or her authority, nor would they undermine Trism's, for he had her on his side. In this very entwined, intermarried, royal game of Chess, she was the strongest, most important piece, and everyone knew it. Trism may bow to her, but he did so knowing that they needed to work together to win. They knew and understood their standing in this game; something his brother had never understood or been able to accept.

As long as they worked together, they would never lose.

He pulled away, resting his forehead to hers, taking a few moments to catch his breath. "Oh, how I want you, my love."

She giggled, as he pulled away, softly locking the bedroom door. "Trism, we can't. Your coronation is in a few hours-"

" _Our_ coronation, my love." He replied, returning to her and scooping her into his arms.

"Even so, what would everyone think?" He rested his forehead to hers.

"I thought you didn't care what others think of you, Fabala." She swallowed softly.

"I don't. But what would Locasta say?"

He laid her down gently on the bed. "That we are not the first couple to steal a bit of pleasure hours before accepting the throne." He kissed her neck. "My parents did the same, only an hour before the ceremony started. We have six hours before the ceremony." He whispered, and she laughed softly, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair.

"But will we _really_ need six hours, my love?" He kissed her deeply, gently scraping his teeth along her lower lip in response.

"Only if you want them." He replied, voice husky, and she swallowed, feeling the heat begin to pool in her stomach.

"I don't want them, I want _you_." She whispered, and he kissed her, sliding a hand beneath the skirt of her dress and up her thigh.

* * *

A soft knock on the door caused Elphaba to look up from threading an earring in. Without a word, Trism opened it, to find Locasta on the other side. "Are you two ready?" She stopped, taking in the sight of her son and daughter-in-law. "Oh, you look beautiful, both of you." The couple blushed.

Dressed in royal military blues, Trism reminded Locasta of her husband, gone only three months now. _When had my little boy grown up so?_ She kissed him gently on the cheek, before turning to his wife. _Yes, Elphaba was certainly a better match for Trism than Fiyero._

The young Fliaanian empress was dressed not in the court dress she wore for her own coronation, but in a gown of the Vinkun court. Though similar in cut and style to the coronation gown she had worn when she took the throne, there were marginal differences between the Fliaanians and the Vinkuns. The gown cinched in at the waist, and unlike the open sleeves that hung down in Fliaanian gowns, the sleeves of this gown were off the shoulder and slightly puffed. The sweetheart bodice exposed a little of her bosom, and the skirt flared out, just barely brushing the floor. The color was a soft gold with a design of sapphire threads- the colors of the Vinkus- and there was no train. Her long hair was pulled back out of her face, and pinned on the sides; it hung down her back in waves of raven silk. A simple necklace hung around her neck- the Star Sapphire, as it was known, worn by every Vinkun queen on the day of her and husband's coronation, from the time of Trism I, the man who had started the Tigelaar dynasty back in the fourteen-hundreds. The necklace had been a gift from him to his wife, Billina, on the day of their coronation.

"Oh, my darlings, you truly do look lovely. Are you ready?" The couple shared a glance, and after a moment, Trism held out an arm, which Elphaba took. Due to it being her son's coronation, Locasta had forgone her black mourning in favor of a soft gold and white gown. With a nod, she followed the couple out of the room and down the stairs. The coronation would actually take place at Ozure Isles, the palace where court resided, though the Tigelaars preferred to stay at Kiamo Ko.


	2. Chapter 2

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: I'm so sorry about this. My darling sister-in-law's stories can get so confusing sometimes! Though it's clear she certainly loves to write, considering all the stories she has on here... I'll try to get this one uploaded (or reuploaded in the right order) as fast as I can! Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"Trism, I'm nervous."

She met his gaze as he gently adjusted the sapphire blue velvet and white spotted fur-lined robe on her shoulders. He already wore his, and gently took her face in his hands. "You have nothing to be nervous for, my love. You have done this before, remember? You will hold no power unless _you_ wish to; you are merely my consort. The choice, to hold power or not, is up to you."

"Since you are ruling, I will rule by your side, my darling." She lifted her chin. "But on one condition."

He raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"I will not be treated as a subject, and therefore, I will not bow before you."

"You will be my queen, Fabala." He replied calmly, adjusting the robe on her small shoulders.

"But you forget, Tris, I am _also_ an empress. I bow to no one."

"I'm _aware_ , Elphaba." He whispered, taking her face in his hands. "But you are aware that while we may be equals upon the throne, within this country, _I_ am your king. And therefore, in the eyes of the crown, I am one step above you."

She pulled away. "And you are aware, that in _my_ country, I stand above you. I will rule the Vinkus by your side as long as you will have me, but Fliaan, I rule alone."

They locked gazes, silence reigning between the two for several minutes, before he grabbed her around the waist and pulled her flush against him. He studied her gaze for several minutes, brushing his knuckles across her cheek, before capturing her lips in his. It was evident, this power struggle would be more a game than anything else for the two ruling monarchs, a way to show the other up, to remind each other of the importance they held not just in their countries, but in each others' lives. He rested his forehead to hers when he pulled away. "I would not have it any other way."

* * *

She glanced at her husband out of the corner of her eye. Trism seemed to be trying to maintain as much composure as she was; silently, he reached over, holding his hand palm up, and she slid her hand into his. A moment passed, before he bit his lip; as a boy, he had always had trouble maintaining composure at ceremonies such as this- usually because Locasta kept such a stern eye on him and his brother- but he had often found himself trying not to break into laughter because it was _just so boring_. He could feel his mother's gaze boring into his skull and quickly squeezed his wife's hand to let her know that they were being watched by the one person that mattered.

The couple managed to lose their desire to burst into laughter when the Imperial Crowns were brought out. As was custom, the king was crowned first; once crowned, he would then crown his queen, showing that he saw her as his equal in all rights and ways in regards to rule. The newly crowned king would then drape the Order of Saint Lurline about her neck, signifying that the responsibility for the welfare of the country belonged to both of them, and that she had the blessings of Lurline, patron saint of the Vinkus, not only in her right as his wife, but as his queen.

She met his gaze as he held out a hand, but she refused it, remaining knelt before him; the meaning loud and clear. _Just this once, I will kneel before you._

She lowered her gaze, her breath catching as she felt him rest the crown upon her head and then drape the Order around her neck, before holding out a hand, which she took, and helping her to her feet. Without a moment's hesitation, Trism leaned forward, brushing a soft kiss to his wife's lips. It stunned the court; the priest opened his mouth to speak, but stopped when he caught Locasta's eye, and the meaning was clear. _My son is not like the men who came before him. This is his court now; he is not going to be your traditional ruler._

Once he pulled away, he led her to the thrones, helping her up the dais, before accepting the orb and scepter. Elphaba stood by his side; she covered his hands with hers- a sign that they would rule jointly, together, for as long as the Unnamed God allowed. Neither said a word as the Grand Priest anointed them both on the forehead with holy chrism. Without a word, he slipped his pinkie around hers, and she tried desperately to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

"By the Unnamed God's will, Trism IV, King and Sovereign of the Vinkus, of Elfnix, of Kelve, of Ugabu, of the Great Kells, of the Lesser Kells, Prince of Restwater..."

A moment passed, before Trism glanced at his mother over Elphaba's shoulder; Locasta nodded. Very few Vinkun queens had ruled their own countries as well as ruled jointly with their husbands, but it was known to happen; Kumbria II, Preenella I, and Sarima I were three such women who had married Vinkun monarchs, ruled by their husbands' sides, as well as ruled their own countries before and after their marriages. Though originally it was custom for the queen to change her name upon ascending the throne with her husband, the practice was dropped around eighteen-twenty. Elphaba, like so many queens before her, would keep her name, only accepting the title of Queen of the Vinkus, adding it to her already long list of titles which she held in Fliaan.

"... Imperial Ruler of Kvon Altar, Grand Duke of Rux, Yeter, and Unbar and others..."

Trism met his wife's gaze, and she lowered her gaze briefly before returning it to his. _I'm here, my love. I'm not going anywhere._

"... Hereditary Ruler and Owner and his wife, Queen Elphaba of the Vinkus and Empress of Fliaan."

As chants of 'The Unnamed God Save the King!' rang out, the pair left the dais, going to the balcony of the palace, so the Vinkun people might see their new rulers. As the heavy wooden doors opened, Trism and Elphaba stepped out, still in their coronation regalia, to cheers and applause from the crowds below.


	3. Chapter 3

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Cheers could be heard, excitement filled the air.

Those in the royal court were seated in a small area, watching as their new king and queen greeted the royal guard; the Vinkuns were nothing if not thorough in regards to their ceremonies and coronations; pomp and circumstance proceeded every coronation ball, every visit by another royal house. As one of the oldest dynasties in Oz, the Tigelaars took their standing in this royal game very seriously. Tradition was the most powerful weapon they had.

In a tradition started back in the reign of Kumbria II and her husband, King Fiyero VI, the newly crowned king and queen would witness and receive the Imperial guard; in doing so, they acknowledged that they were the leaders of military, and therefore would keep the welfare of the Vinkus, and her alliances with other countries, as of being of the utmost importance for the health and safety of the country and her people.

Elphaba, having changed out of her coronation gown, into a blue and gold regimental uniform, complete with cape and cap, sat sidesaddle atop one of the horses; she remembered watching regimental drills with her sisters; each _Kauri_ received their own regiment at ten years of age, so she was familiar with such drills and inspections. The horse pawed at the ground lightly, unfamiliar with the young woman seated up his back, and Elphaba turned, meeting her husband's gaze as he guided his own horse to hers.

 _"They're so majestic, aren't they?"_

 _"You are only saying that because you want to marry one, Fabala."_

 _"So? Why shouldn't I be allowed to marry a Fliaanian soldier some day, Elia?"_

 _"Because you are a Kauri, Fabala, and Kauris do not marry soldiers. They marry princes."_

 _"But I do not want to marry a prince, Rainia. I want to marry a soldier and have thirty children."_

 _"Thirty children. Would you believe it, Rainia? Our Fabala, having thirty children!"_

 _"Fabala would make a wonderful mother, Elia. It is Nessa who would be horrible at it."_

She looked up, to find Trism holding a hand out to her, which she took, squeezing lightly through the white gloves she wore. The question in his eyes was clear, _Ready?_

She nodded, squeezing his hand again. Without letting go, they bid the horses forward, stopping directly in front of the troops. Locasta, as the Dowager Queen, sat in the center of the small seating area, watching her son and daughter-in-law, remembering the moment she and Traper had done the same thing.

Silence filled the square, as the young royals shared a glance, before Trism released his wife's hand.

 _"At attention!"_ Those on foot straightened, and those on horseback sat up a little straighter. The familiar drum beat began, and the commander spoke again. _"Make way, for His Imperial Majesty, King Trism IV, and his wife, Her Imperial Majesty, Queen Elphaba!"_

The couple shared another glance, before both slowly saluted the guard, as was custom. As the pair sat atop their horses, the members of the Imperial guard knelt before them, acknowledging their leadership and the change of power from an old generation to a new.

Once the men were back on their feet, they parted, allowing the royal couple to pass through, to greet the crowd of men, women and children gathered to watch the greeting of the guard; as they passed, each bowed before the couple. Elphaba glanced at Trism, worry in her eyes. _Would they really accept an outsider as their queen? A Fliaanian empress? A former Grand Kauri?_

The answer was simple. He nodded to the people before her. _Look around you, my love. They accepted you long before now. They accepted you not long after our marriage was announced._

She followed his gaze, a soft gasp escaping her throat. Every head was bowed before them, all except a little girl, who tentatively stepped out from the crowd. One of the guard rushed to move her back, away from the young queen's horse, but Elphaba held out a hand to stop him. "No, no, it's all right. She's just a child." Carefully, she moved the horse closer, and then slipped off it once she was close enough. Trism watched his wife silently, noticing as she knelt down to the girl's level once she got close enough. "What's your name?"

The child stared at her with wide eyes, transfixed by the diamonds on either side of her eyes. She couldn't have been more than eight at most. After a moment, she whispered, "Oziandra."

"Oziandra?" Elphaba repeated, and the girl nodded. "That was my older sister's name." The child then held out her hand; clutched tightly in her grasp was a Vinkun rose- so named for the dusky red of its petals. "For me?" The child nodded, and Elphaba gently accepted the flower. "Thank you, it's lovely. Just like you." The girl blushed, before reaching out to touch her face, so taken with the green diamonds. A guard moved to stop her, but Elphaba held out a hand. "No, it's all right." Without a word, she closed her eyes, letting the girl brush her fingers over the diamonds on either side of her eyes.

"Are you our new queen?"

Elphaba glanced at her husband, who simply smiled at her, before turning back to the girl. "I am."

"Were you really Flian royalty?"

The young woman nodded. "My Mama and Papa ruled Fliaan nearly eleven years ago. I rule it now." She glanced at Trism. "And then I married your prince, and became his princess, and now he's your king, and I'm your queen. If you'll have me."

Without a word, the child threw her arms around Elphaba's shoulders; Trism bid the guards stay where they were. Slowly, Elphaba wrapped her arms around the child, memories of her little brother and sister filling her head. Tears came to her eyes and dripped onto her cheeks, and the girl pulled away. "Why are you sad? Don't you want to be our queen?"

The young woman laughed softly, reaching up to brush her tears away. "I do very much. I just miss my family."

"Didn't they come?"

She shook her head. "They all died nearly eleven years ago. I am the only one left."

"Oh." The child bit her lip, before leaning over to press a kiss to her cheek. Someone clicked a camera, capturing the moment forever. With a soft smile, Elphaba stood, taking the girl's hand. "You'll forever be our queen?"

Elphaba glanced at her husband as she spoke, though the response was for all the Vinkus. "As long as you'll have me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The grand ball being thrown in their honor was reminiscent of the balls thrown at the Fliaanian court before the revolution. The music, the dancing, it all reminded her of the balls she and her sisters had watched as children, but never been allowed to attend until they were much older. Without a word, Trism held out his hand, and after a moment, she took it, allowing him to lead her down the steps of the dais and onto the dance floor. Once the dance finished, the pair left the dance floor, slipping out of the ballroom and out onto a balcony for some air.

Elphaba turned to him once they were alone. "How could you think the people wouldn't want you, Fabala? They love you, just as I do." He whispered, brushing a strand of hair off her cheek as he stepped closer to her. She met his gaze.

"Do they love me because I married you, or because they believe they _have_ to?"

He slid his arms around her waist. "They love you because _you_ are _you_ , my darling. You captured their hearts from the moment our marriage was announced, and you have been capturing their hearts every day since. They love you because they see the you that I see; they realize how happy you make me, and how good and kind you are- like with that little girl today. Not many would stop to acknowledge a child, much less a _queen_ acknowledging a child." She blushed. "My people see your heart, just as your people do, and they love you for it. Just as I do."

Their lips met, and he pulled her flush against him, lifting her a couple inches off the ground as her arms slipped around his neck. The kiss deepened, and Elphaba moved to work on the buttons of his coat. Never breaking the kiss, he slid a hand down her hip, burying his fingers in the material of her dress as he pulled her closer; neither cared about the ball taking place feet from them, in their honor...

Slowly, he pulled away, resting his forehead to hers.

"I want you, my king."

He chuckled softly. "And I want you, my beautiful queen." Moments passed in silence, before he kissed her sweetly on the mouth once more and then pulled away. "Can you content yourself with kisses until later tonight?" She slid her arms around his neck, wrinkling her nose in thought.

"I don't have a choice, do I?"

He shook his head. "Unfortunately not." He kissed her again, softly.

She sighed. "Then kisses, I guess, will have to do."

* * *

They retired early, excusing themselves from the ball, both claiming exhaustion from the day's many activities and excitement. Upon returning to Kiamo Ko, the pair slipped upstairs and into their bedroom, locking the door softly behind them. Once behind closed doors, he slipped his arms around her from behind, his lips finding the soft skin of her throat, and she sighed in contentment, before turning around and capturing his mouth with hers.

In moments, their clothing fell to the floor, and he scooped her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and lying her gently within the blankets before joining her. Hands trailed over skin, teeth found soft purchase against lips, legs became tangled, and heart rates began to race. Slowly, tenderly, he trailed kisses down her body, sucking gently at the soft porcelain skin, before returning his mouth to hers. She met his gaze, her own filled with desire. "Take me as you have before, Tris, my love, please."

"And how would that be, Fabala, my darling?" He whispered, playing coy as he proceeded to trail kisses over her forehead, down her nose and across her cheeks. She pulled away, meeting his gaze.

"You know full well how, Trism."

In one swift motion, he pulled her up, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her neck. "The way a man is supposed to take a woman?" He whispered, sucking gently on the skin of her breast. "Or the way a wolf takes his mate?" He suggested, shifting her onto her hands and knees. She glanced at him over her shoulder, her whisper breathy.

"Both."

He pulled her hips towards him, curving around her body, gently kissing her ear. "All you had to do was ask, my queen." They met in a kiss as he entered her, and she moaned softly against his lips, relishing the feel of him inside her once again. _"Oh, Fabala..."_

 _"Mmm... Tris... harder..."_ She arched her back as he went deeper; a moment passed, before he tangled his fingers in her hair, kissing the silky strands before moving and kissing the curve of her shoulder. _"Make me a woman..."_

 _"You are a woman... you're the most beautiful woman I've... ever laid eyes on..."_ She giggled, pushing her hips into his, feeling him go deeper as she did so. _"Oh, Fabala, what are you doing to me?"_ Another giggle escaped her lips, and she gasped as he gently brushed his fingers against her nipples.

"Keeping you on your toes, my king." She replied, groaning in pleasure as he grabbed her hips and pushed into her again, harder, deeper, faster. _"Mmmm... Tris..."_

He moaned softly, forcing himself to calm down, but she whimpered in response. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. _"No, Fabala... easy... want this... to last..."_

"You have no problem lasting, my love." She told him, reaching up to cradle his face in her hand. " _You... have no problem at all... in this department... you have made me a... a very lucky woman... on more than one... occasion..._ " She kissed him soundly, groaning. _"Including... tonight... oh, keep going..."_

The speed increased, matching their breathing, and the rushing pace of their heartbeats. He took a deep breath, feeling her tighten around him, knowing that she was close, so close to release. With a groan, he pushed harder, faster, going deeper, filling her completely. _"... Fabala... my queen... so... close... I'm... so..."_

 _"Trism... harder... please..._ " She moaned, the pleasure-filled sound only spurring him to go faster; a pair of wolves in heat, once again partaking in this mating ritual. _"... almost... keep going... I'm... almost..."_

The beautiful sounds of her orgasm washed over him, and moments later, he followed, exploding in her with a cry that made her go weak in the knees. Oh, how she loved that sound. They collapsed among the blankets, curling around each other and letting the sweet release of their lovemaking wash over them both. Reaching up to caress his cheek, she turned her head, nuzzling her nose against his. "My king... I believe we make better music than all the Vinkun orchestras put together."

He chuckled softly, kissing her. "I think you're right, my queen."


	5. Chapter 5

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

It felt so good to be home.

She loved the Vinkus and her people, but nothing compared to being back in Fliaan, being surrounded by her own people, to returning to Colwen Grounds. Despite everything that had happened in the last several months, Colwen Grounds was still _hers_ ; still the home she and Trism had made together. It was the home that would one day be filled with the laughter of children, if she were ever so lucky.

Glinda, her darling cousin, had returned to Gillikin to visit family, and her beloved grandmother had returned to the City for a while, leaving Elphaba and Trism to their own devices. The flowers in the garden were just starting to bloom, as was common for early-June. The young couple had worked out a plan that would allow them to split their time between Fliaan and the Vinkus, but for now, Elphaba was just happy to be back in her home country.

She looked up as Trism stepped out onto the balcony; the Cerulean Room was still Elphaba's haven- but every so often, he would join her. Gently, he slipped his arms around her waist. "Happy to be home?" She nodded, meeting his gaze. "So am I." He kissed her softly. "No matter how long I end up ruling the Vinkus, this will always be my home, because we made it a home, together." A moment passed, before she pulled away, resting a hand against her stomach. "Fabala?"

Worry filled his blue gaze, and after a moment, she looked up at him, going pale. "I... I'm fine..."

He shook his head. "No, you're not fine. Fabala, darling, what's wrong? Talk to me."

She covered her mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick." And without another word, she pulled away, rushing back into the palace and into the bathroom off their bedroom. He followed, slipping in the bathroom in time to see her on her knees, holding onto the rim of the toilet.

"Fabala."

She swallowed, before throwing up again. " _What?_ "

Slowly, Trism knelt beside her, reaching out and pulling her hair back from her face. "This has been going on for weeks. Don't you think you should be examined by Doctor Dillamond, just to be sure?"

"Sure of what?" She choked out, before returning to throwing up.

"That the baby is okay."

Once finished, she turned to meet his gaze. "Baby... how can you be so-"

"Because I watched you go through this before. Fabala, you're pregnant. You know it, I know it. The only ones who don't are our families, because we haven't told them yet." He brushed his thumb against her cheek. "And if I'm right, then..." He quickly did the math in his head. "Then we conceived in early February, which would make you... roughly five months along."

"Early February." She whispered, closing her eyes briefly. "The night of our coronation." He nodded.

"Which means," He reached out, resting a hand against her abdomen. "That this little prince or princess should be making his or her appearance in October, give or take a few weeks."

She met his gaze. "But what if-" She stopped, and he knew what she was afraid to ask. _What if I lose this baby, too?_

"Look at it this way, my love. You're just starting five months; that's already past when we lost our son." He stood, helping her to her feet. "Come on, love. I'll have Cattery fetch Doctor Dillamond, just to be safe."

* * *

"You were correct, Your Majesty." Doctor Dillamond said, as Trism helped his wife sit up after the examination. The good doctor watched the young empress as she tentatively reached down to cradle her abdomen. "Just beginning five months, which mean conception took place around early February." Trism glanced at his wife, and she rolled her eyes.

"Oh, don't give me that look." He chuckled, kissing her hair. "Is he healthy?" She asked, turning to the doctor. Dillamond nodded.

"From what I can tell, yes. As long as you listen to your body, eat healthy, and get plenty of rest, you should give birth to a healthy son or daughter come October, Your Majesty."

"Thank you, Doctor." Trism quickly shook the man's hand, and he nodded, bowing quickly to both young royals before leaving. Once he was gone, Trism turned to his wife, returning to his place beside her on the bed. "Looks like we'll be using that nursery after all, my love." She smiled softly, resting her forehead to his. "Are you okay?"

A sigh escaped her throat, and she stood, going to the mirror that stood against the far wall. Trism watched as his wife slipped out of her dress, before turning to study her body in the mirror. "How could I not realize that I'm pregnant again?" She turned to her husband. "How could I miss this? Tris... a baby is... how..." He stood, going to her, sliding his arms around her waist and resting his hands on her belly. The swell was there, she could see it if she turned to the side.

"We've had a lot going on, my love. Getting used to ruling the Vinkus, figuring out how we're going to split our time between Colwen Grounds and Kiamo Ko-"

"I want the baby to be born here." He met her gaze. "I want to give birth here, not in the Vinkus. Darling, I love you, and I love the Vinkun people, but... but Fliaan is my home. This baby is heir to my throne- and the Vinkun throne yes-, but..."

"Shh. I understand, Fabala." He whispered, taking her face in his hands. It all came down to her family. "I understand, believe me, I do." He rested his forehead to hers, resting his hands on her belly. "This baby will be born at Colwen Grounds, surrounded by family, not the court, but _family_."


	6. Chapter 6

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

News of Elphaba's pregnancy spread quickly among the royal houses. Glinda returned from Gillikin with her parents, and Partra came from the City to congratulate the expectant parents; it was a joyous occasion, especially considering the heartbreak the young couple had endured with the last pregnancy. When it was announced that the young Vinkun king and queen were expecting a baby- a little heir that would be born in roughly four months time- the Vinkun people rejoiced. Celebrations took place throughout the land, and Trism and Elphaba received the acceptance with calm heads and hearts.

The people of Fliaan also rejoiced to hear that their young empress and her husband were going to be parents soon; many remembered the unfortunate miscarriage the young empress had experienced, and all- those in Parliament included- had prayed that the young empress would once again find herself with child. Of course when it came to prayers, Elphaba couldn't help wondering if Cattery had been right, and she told Trism as much.

But not all received the news of Elphaba's pregnancy with excitement, as was evident as the next royal luncheon.

* * *

"I know what the others think of me, Trism." She whispered, leaning back against the seat of the car, cradling her belly. It was evident that she was pregnant now; seven months by this point. Having started her final trimester, Doctor Dillamond had informed her that she would not be able to travel as much, and would be required to spend more time home resting, which Elphaba didn't mind.

"What they think doesn't matter, Fabala, you know that. The majority of them are jealous that our family is starting and they might not find the right mate to start a family with." He replied, covering her hand. She sighed, gasping slightly as the baby kicked against the added pressure of Trism's hand on hers. "Go easy on Mama, little princess." His wife raised an eyebrow.

"Princess? You really think we're having a little princess?"

He met her gaze. "You think we're having a little prince."

As the car slowed to a stop, she pushed herself up. "I thought you wanted an heir to the throne." Her husband opened the door and then turned back.

"I do, but don't you remember, Fabala, that daughters may inherit the Vinkun throne now, too. Or did you forget signing that bill into law?"

* * *

Conversation fell silent as Trism and Elphaba entered; instantly, the others bowed to the young royals, before allowing them to take their seats. As lunch began, conversation turned to the baby. "I thought a woman in your condition was supposed to stay out of the public eye, Elphaba." The young empress turned, narrowing her eyes at her cousin.

"That was eras ago, Iskinaary." She replied, gently stroking her belly. "The people want to see me, they want to know the baby is okay." Her cousin rolled her eyes.

"And will you do nothing but produce _daughters_ , Cousin Fabala? Like your poor excuse for a mother did before she died?"

Silence filled the room, and every head turned to Elphaba. The young empress took a deep breath, and she felt Trism take her hand.

" _That's enough_ , Iskinaary." Partra growled; no one insulted her son and daughter-in-law, especially not another member of the family, be they distant or not.

"Regardless of whether or not a son or daughter grows within my wife's womb should be of no concern to you, Lady Iskinaary. The child my wife gives birth too will be in line for the Vinkun throne regardless of gender. A daughter has just as much right to learning how to rule as a son does. Or have you _forgotten_ that it's the women who carry the royal lines, while the men simply carry the names?"

The girl paled, and Elphaba firmly squeezed her husband's hand in a silent gesture of thanks.

* * *

By the time they returned to Colwen Grounds, Elphaba was exhausted. Due to the growing weight of her belly, her back was hurting, and with her hips and joints beginning to relax, it was getting more difficult to ignore the pain. Trism had a bath drawn, and as he joined her, he worked on massaging the knots from her back. She hissed softly when he hit a particularly difficult spot, but for the most part, kept quiet, allowing her husband to work.

Her hands stroked her belly absentmindedly, stopping occasionally when the baby kicked or shifted. "Did you really mean it today? What you told Iskinaary? About our baby being in line for the throne, regardless of whether it's a boy or girl?"

"Of course I did. A girl has just as much of a chance of being a strong, well-respected ruler as a boy does. Maybe more." He replied, never stopping his work.

"How more?" She asked, as he brushed a strand of black hair over her shoulder.

"Because a woman listens. She pays more attention to her instincts and thinks things thru better than a man. A woman is cunning, but fair. She has a charm that men fail to possess, and are more willing to look at all the angles instead of just one. A woman has that perfect balance of head and heart, and a woman who rules who has that perfect balance, is a great leader. Like you." He whispered, kissing her shoulder.

After a moment, she turned to meet his gaze. "Do you really think I'm a great leader, Tris?"

"Of course I do, Fabala." He replied, resting his forehead to hers. "I turn to you for a reason, when it comes to making important decisions. Your head and your heart work together, and I know that once you've considered everything and given your input, that whatever decision I make will be the right one, because I have you beside me, and I know that I can trust you. You're my partner, remember?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Her labor started in the late hours of the fourteenth of October.

She stumbled to the door of the boudoir, her cries bringing Cattery. "What can I get you, Your Majesty?" The young maid knew the signs of a woman's labor; she had helped her mother deliver many children when she herself was no more than a child, and was well-trained in the herbs and poultices that would help a woman through the phases of labor and childbirth.

The young empress grabbed the maid's hand, squeezing as a contraction took control. "Send for Doctor Dillamond, Cattery, and your mother. And inform my husband that my time has come. Hurry." The girl nodded, rushing off to do as told. She could hear footsteps on the stairs, and knew immediately that her husband- as well as Glinda, Partra, and Locasta- were on the way. Elphaba had requested that only the family be in attendance when the baby came; the birth of a child would no longer be an affair for the court, but the family.

"Fabala-"

She looked up as Trism skidded to a stop before her; Glinda stayed back in the hallway, as Partra and Locasta entered. The blonde had no idea what to do or say to support her cousin, and so she hung back. _"Trism!"_ She grabbed his hand, squeezing as another contraction started, and cried out. _"Oh... the baby... oh..."_ She forced herself to release a slow breath. _"Mmm... our son... he's coming..."_

Gently, he slipped an arm around her waist, with a chuckle. "Our daughter, you mean."

She shook her head. _"No... only a son would... cause... this much pain... oh..."_ She glanced at her husband, taking a deep breath, at the feel of liquid sliding down her legs and puddling on the floor at her feet. "Please, don't let it be red... I couldn't bear if it was red..." And Trism pulled her closer, understanding her fear; the miscarriage was still strong in both their minds as though it had happened the day before.

Locasta laughed softly, going to her daughter-in-law. "Oh, Fabala, your waters have ruptured, darling. Your baby is on its way."

"Really?" Locasta nodded, recognizing the fear in her daughter-in-law's dark gaze, in her voice. She wrapped an arm around her waist, taking her other hand.

"Come on, that's it, sweetheart. Deep breaths."

By the time Cattery returned with her mother and Doctor Dillamond in tow, the young empress had been stripped of her clothing, leaving her in only a simple shift; her long black hair was held back from her face, and she was seated on an ottoman, leaning back against Trism, who was sitting on a chair, rubbing circles on her back. Her eyes were closed against the pain, and she held tight to both Locasta and Partra's hands.

"Let's get the young Majesty up. She cannot birth a child on an ottoman." Midwife Ottokos replied, as the two older women helped the young mother-to-be to her feet. The midwife had brought a birthing stool, and once the young woman was seated upon it, she and Dillamond proceeded to check her progress. Dillamond trusted the midwife, and she trusted him; they had both worked in the hospitals in the north at one point, and there was a healthy dose of respect between the two medical professionals. But they both also knew that the young woman was carrier of the royal disease, and that there was a high probability that if the babe were a boy, the implications and concerns would be great.

"Trism, maybe you should-" Partra started, but Elphaba shook her head.

 _"No!"_ She took another deep breath. _"This is... our child... I want... him... here..."_

"Fabala, my darling, it's not proper for a man who is _not_ a doctor to witness a woman in the throes of childbirth-" But her granddaughter cut her off.

 _"He's my husband!"_

"I know, Fabala, but not even your _father_ witnessed the births of you and your siblings-"

 _"I am not my mother! Trism is not my father! He is my husband! I want... my husband... here... for... the birth... of our... baby... Don't you... understand that, Grandmama?"_

"Of course I understand, Elphaba, but in my day-"

 _"This is not your day!"_ Elphaba cried, as another contraction took hold. _"This is my day! My time! My era!"_ She dug her nails into her mother-in-law's hand, crying out. _"I am empress, not you!"_ Partra sighed, realizing that her granddaughter was right and that she'd overstepped her boundaries.

"You're right, Your Majesty." The dowager met Trism's gaze, and he nodded in understanding.

"Is she going to be all right?" Everyone turned, to see Glinda still standing in the doorway, wringing her hands nervously. Tears filled the blonde's eyes, and Partra knew she was thinking of Melena, of the disease Elphaba carried in her blood, of the very real possibility that her cousin, as a carrier, could hemorrhage during the birth...

"Glinda, come inside, shut the door, quickly. We don't need to worry the rest of the household more than they already are." After a moment, the blonde did as told, shutting the door and leaning against it. She remembered the nights Shell would bleed so badly that he would cry from the pain, and feared for her beloved cousin. Elphaba let out a cry, pressing her hands into her husband's thighs; he sat behind her, stroking her back, running his fingers through her hair, whispering soft words of encouragement to her.

The midwife sent her daughter to the bathroom for towels and warm water, before checking the young empress's progress. With the skirt of her shift pushed up past her thighs, the midwife gently checked the laboring mother's progress, meeting Dillamond's gaze, who was checking the young empress for fever, as was common during childbirth. Cattery had since returned with the required items, lying them out on the floor at her mistress's feet. "The crown of this little one is already pushing through its mother's opening; I suspect this babe has been ready to be born for hours before anyone realized."

 _"Ah... Trism..."_ She pushed herself slightly off the stool, before reaching back for her husband's hand.

"I'm here, I'm right here." He kissed her palm. "I've got you, Fabala. I'm not leaving you. I promise."

"Push, Your Majesty." Elphaba did as told, crying out in pain, eyes snapping shut and teeth clenched. _Mama, how did you do this five times?_ "Again, Your Majesty. _Push_."

After an hour of pushing, Glinda finally spoke up. "Can't you make it stop? The baby's killing her!"

"Glinda, _shut. up!_ " Elphaba ground out, pushing again.

"Fabala, if you start _hemorrhaging_ -"

 _"If you don't be quiet, I will have you removed from Colwen Grounds and placed on the next train back to Gillikin! Now shut up!"_ The blonde snapped her mouth shut, and after a moment, Elphaba laid her head back against her husband's shoulder. "I will not hemorrhage, Glinda... because the baby is not... coming..." She blew strands of hair out of her eyes and pushed again before returning her head to Trism's shoulder.

"The babe is coming, Your Majesty. Slowly, but it's coming." She moved aside so Dillamond could check the young empress, and he glanced at the young mother.

"Your suspicions were right the first time, Midwife."

"What?" Elphaba asked, sitting up slightly. She glanced at her husband, who was just as concerned as she was. "Is something... wrong with the baby?"

"Not wrong." Dillamond replied, taking a damp cloth and gently dabbing at her feverish skin. "The babe is just a little bigger than anticipated, Your Majesty. That does not mean that a normal birth cannot be achieved; it might just take a little longer than most. But you are young and healthy, and you are doing just fine. No worries, just focus on delivering your heir."

Once the midwife returned to her place between Elphaba's legs, she nodded to the young mother. "Push, Your Majesty. _Push!_ " Sitting up, the young mother did as told, letting out a scream. It was not proper for a laboring woman to respond to the pain of childbirth vocally, but no one objected, realizing that she could not remain silent, so great was the pain. It was not until a few years earlier that midwives and doctors both began encouraging laboring mothers to respond to the pain vocally, breaking centuries of tradition. _"Harder, Your Majesty!"_

 _"I can't!"_

"Yes you can, my love." Trism whispered against her hair, but she shook her head.

"No, Tris, I can't... _I can't push anymore... I don't want to..._ "

"Fabala, look at me." She met his gaze, and it was then that he saw how exhausted she was. She had been at this for hours, he knew. Gently, he cradled her chin in his hand. "This is _our baby_. This is the little one we've waited all this time for. Our little princess. She wants to be born, darling."

"Our prince." Elphaba corrected, and he chuckled.

"Or our little prince. Either way, they want to be born, sweetheart. You can do this. I know you can." He kissed her feverish forehead. "I'm right here, Fabala." He threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing her hand. "My strength is your strength. We do this together; partners, remember?" She nodded. "I'm your king and you're my queen. You're the strongest piece in this game, my love. You can do this." He kissed her temple again, letting her squeeze his hand as she sat up. _"Push! Come on, Fabala, push! Harder! That's it, my love, keep going! You're doing great!_ "

Slowly, she felt the baby's head continue to move out of her body. Time passed slowly, and she laid her head back against his shoulder, catching her breath. Dillamond checked her temperature again, and she felt Locasta and Partra take her hands, as Trism wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, giving her his strength.

 _"Push, Your Majesty! Keep pushing! Keep pushing! Harder!"_

"You can do it, Fabala-"

The young empress shook her head at her mother-in-law. "It _hurts_."

"I know it hurts, darling, I've been there. Partra and I both have. But it's _all_ worth it in the end. Because you'll be a mother. You'll have that _beautiful_ baby in your arms and you and Trism will be _parents_."

Elphaba glanced at her grandmother, who nodded, and then sat up, pushing again. _"Ah... get him out... I want him out..."_

"The baby's coming, Fabala. You just need to _keep pushing_." Partra replied, catching her granddaughter's eye.

 _"Keep going, Your Majesty! The head is coming! Push! Harder, Your Majesty! Harder! As hard as you possibly can! That's it!"_

 _"Trism..."_ He kissed her hair.

"I'm right here, Fabala, right here. I'm not going anywhere."

She pushed again at the midwife's urging; Dillamond nodded to Cattery and Glinda. Cattery nodded, and after a moment, Glinda followed. Each held one of her legs back, helping to ease the stress on her body. Gently, Cattery rubbed the porcelain skin of her mistress's thigh, humming softly. "That's it, Your Majesty, keep going. That's it."

Glinda studied her cousin in silence, before whispering,

"Th... that's good, Fabala... you're doing good..." She glanced at Partra, who nodded.

The young woman kept pushing; she dug her nails into her grandmother's and mother-in-law's hands; with the young maid and her cousin holding firmly to her legs, it was easier for her to bear down, and she felt the baby continue to move out of her birth canal. The midwife checked her progress, turning to Dillamond for assistance, and after a moment, he nodded, turning his gaze to the young mother. "Keep pushing, Your Majesty. The head is almost out. You need to keep pushing."

"You hear that, Fabala?" Elphaba nodded, meeting her grandmother's gaze. "Come on, Fabala, you can do this. Push!"

Her granddaughter did as told, letting out a scream. "Oh... how did Mama do this five times? I _can't_!"

 _Yes you can, Fabala, my darling. You are stronger than you think. Childbirth is all about strength; strength under tremendous pressure and pain. A woman is stronger than any man, because she bears the line. It's because of her that the lineage continues, and everyone knows it._

Elphaba shook her head. _I'm not in control, Mama. How can I be when this child is tearing me apart?_

She could hear her mother's soft laughter, feel her stroke her fingers through her hair. _Oh, my Fabala, childbirth is about letting your body take control. It's about trusting your body enough to do as it says. That is where the strength comes from._

In her feverish state, she could see Melena, standing behind the midwife, watching her daughter with a calm that Elphaba had seen many times. Her long hair was pulled back, and she wore the dress she'd worn the night of the massacre. After several minutes, Melena seemed to pass through the midwife as she made her way towards her daughter. As the former empress knelt over her daughter, meeting the girl's gaze, the young empress shook her head. _I wish you were here, Mama!_

Melena brushed her fingers over her daughter's skin. _I'm here, darling. We're all here. Papa, Shell, Nessa, Raina, Elia, we're all here. We wouldn't leave you, not during an important moment such as this. Focus on that strength, and use it to bring this baby into the world. Focus, Fabala! Do you hear me? That's it, that's my good girl._ Over her mother's shoulder, she could see her father, her brother and her sisters, as healthy and whole as the night they all walked down those twenty-nine steps and into that basement that would turn into a slaughterhouse.

 _You are all-_

 _Of course we are, Fabala._ Melena brushed a kiss to her daughter's head. _We will always be here. We will never leave you._

 _"Push, Fabala! Harder! Harder, my love! That's it, my queen, keep going!"_ Trism's voice broke through her revere, and she bore down as hard as she could...

"The babe's head is out fully, Your Majesty. Take a couple moments to catch your breath." Elphaba nodded, leaning back in Trism's arms.

"Oh, Fabala, black curls." Glinda whispered, meeting her cousin's gaze, tears in her eyes. "Like you and your siblings." Elphaba didn't say anything, but she caught her sisters' gazes over Glinda's shoulder, and Nessa giggled, clapping her hands in excitement, those same black curls that her niece or nephew had obviously inherited bouncing. The midwife quickly cleared the baby's airways, before holding the baby's head as Dillamond gently removed the cord, checking the baby's breathing. Once that was done, he nodded to the young empress.

"Push, Your Majesty."

Elphaba did as told, as Trism helped her sit up. Once again, she bore down as hard as she possibly could, her muscles spasming slightly from the exhaustion. Pain soon filled every fiber of her being as she felt one of the shoulders push against her opening, and she cried out; a very primal, animalistic cry, a mother wolf in the throes of delivering her pup. _"That's it, my darling! Keep pushing! Harder, Fabala! As hard as you possibly can, my queen!"_ She did as her husband ordered, for once, the roles being reversed.

Slowly, one shoulder began to appear; Glinda watched with worry in her eyes as the baby slowly entered the world. She met her cousin's gaze, giving the young empress a small smile. With a puff of her cheeks, Elphaba bore down again, straining against the pain. Finally, the shoulder slipped out, followed quickly by the other one.

 _"Come on, Fabala, that's it! You're almost done! Push!"_

 _"The babe's almost here! Again, Your Majesty!"_

 _"Keep pushing, Your Majesty. You're doing wonderfully."_

 _"That's it, Fabala, you're doing great."_

It was a swirl of voices, of orders and... for the love of the Unnamed God, the _pain_! Time seemed to slow as she continued, as the midwife and Doctor Dillamond helped her to deliver her child. She met her mother's gaze, but the one voice she focused on was her husband's; his gentle words of encouragement in her ear, his soft praise, his tender commands. He kept her grounded, reminded her that she wasn't alone, that they were in this together, that his strength was her strength.

"You're almost done, my darling! It's almost over, you just need to keep pushing! That's it, that's it, my queen... keep going! Keep pushing!"

She shook her head, closing her eyes briefly. "I _can't_ , Trism-"

He caught her gaze in his. "Look at me, Fabala, look at me. You can. You're almost done, our baby is almost here. A few more good, strong pushes and it'll all be over." She shook her head, but he stopped her. "Yes. _Yes, Fabala_ , you _can_. I'm right here with you, you're not doing this alone. I'm here. I'm not leaving you. I promise, I'm right here." He pressed a kiss to her head. "I'm right here. I love you, my beautiful queen. _Now push! Push, Fabala!_ "

She took her husband's words to heart, bearing down with all her strength, a scream escaping her throat. The labor had lasted all through the early morning, afternoon, and into the early evening; at twenty minutes past ten in the late evening of October fifteenth, the strong, healthy cries of a newborn greeted the Vinkun king and his Fliaanian empress.


	8. Chapter 8

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Cries. Strong, healthy cries.

"Oh, Fabala, you did it! You did it, Cousin!"

"You did beautifully, my darling."

"You hear that? That's your child, Fabala."

She leaned back against her husband, letting the exhaustion finally take hold. She heard the others, heard the praise for how strong she was, how good she had done, but none of it mattered. Releasing Locasta's hand, she reached behind her for her husband; Trism took her hand, kissing it firmly. "You did it, my queen. You brought our child into the world." He kissed her head, before their attention was brought back by the midwife.

"Congratulations, Your Majesties." The midwife spoke up. "You bore a healthy baby girl."

Elphaba, still catching her breath, turned to meet her husband's gaze. "You... were right... my king." She swallowed thickly. "We have... a little princess..."

He kissed her soundly, completely ignoring everyone else, simply intent on sharing this tender moment with his wife. "You have _officially_ made me the luckiest man in all of Oz."

* * *

Once settled among the blankets and pillows of their bed, the midwife brought the baby to her parents; gingerly, Elphaba accepted her newborn daughter, tears trailing down her cheeks as she met her husband's gaze, the meaning clear. _She's here. She's here and she's really ours._

Trism settled beside her, completely speechless, gaze locked on the baby cradled in his wife's arms. The realization, the shock, that his child was finally here, temporarily struck the young king dumb, and Locasta chuckled. It was the same look Traper had worn when Fiyero had been born.

"Will she have a title, Your Majesty?" Cattery asked from her place at the end of the bed. Elphaba nodded, slowly tearing her gaze from the baby.

"She is a Grand _Kauri_ of Fliaan, Cattery, of course she will bear a title." Her gaze moved past the maid, locking on her family. "Any daughter born to a _Samrãjñī_ bears a title; I did, as did my sisters. Just as any child born to a Vinkun king bears a title." She turned to her husband. "Right, my king? Tris? Trism?"

"I'm sorry, what did you say, my love?" He asked, forcing his gaze from the baby. A tiny smile tugged at his wife's lips, and he blushed.

"Not even an hour old, and our little _Kauri_ has already captured her daddy's heart." Partra whispered, as her grandson-in-law's blush got deeper. "We certainly know which parent she will wrap around her little finger."

Trism glanced at his wife, and muttered something along the lines of, "I've never been and never will be wrapped around anyone's little finger."

"That's not true, my son." Locasta replied, and the king blushed harder, ducking his head to rest against his wife's shoulder to avoid having to respond.

"Shall I send for the wet nurse, Your Majesty?" Cattery asked, as her mother wrapped the placenta in a small towel. Similar to before, it was believed in the north that if the placenta of a live fetus was buried beside the placenta of the lost one, it would bring prosperity and good health to the mother and her child, and the strength to bear more children, healthy, live children.

Elphaba shook her head. "No, Cattery. Wet nurses will not be necessary. I am not going to leave the nutrition of my child to another woman; she is mine, and it's my duty to provide for her." Without another word, she shrugged out of the shift, and gently guided the baby's mouth to her breast. A couple minutes passed before the infant finally latched on and began to suckle. A small, excited smile grew on her mother's face, and gently, Elphaba reached down, taking the baby's hand. The infant grasped tight at her mother's finger, and the young empress choked on a sob; the sobbing only got heavier when she finally realized-

"Trism. She bears _your eyes_ , my king. She bears your eyes."

He kissed her softly before returning his head to her shoulder. It was not custom for a husband to witness the birth of his own child; oftentimes, the father would be forced to wait out in the hall while the court witnessed the birth of the heir- a horribly backwards custom that seemed to remove the man from all aspects of his child's first few hours of life. It was a custom that had evidently died with Frexpar and Melena; because their own daughter refused the court and demanded her husband and family there.

"What's her name, Fabala?" Glinda whispered, relieved that it was all over and her cousin was okay; Doctor Dillamond had been able to stop the minor hemorrhaging the young empress experienced after the birth, and though everyone was relieved in some aspect that the child was a daughter and not a son, Elphaba knew that her daughter was in just as much danger as any son would be- for her little princess would be a carrier, like her mother, like her aunts and her grandmother before her.

"A newborn Fliaanian royal's name is never revealed after birth, Glinda." Partra replied. "Only her parents know; we shall find out on the day of her baptism."

Elphaba glanced at her grandmother; her gaze moved to her mother, who nodded. "I know one name that will not be used." The young empress whispered. "Melena."

Glinda glanced at Trism, confused. "But Aunt Melena-"

"Every royal girl or woman who has bore that name has died young, Glinda." Elphaba replied. "Most did not live to see adulthood. It is why none of my sisters or I were named after Mama. It carries ill luck and ties to young deaths." The empress shook her head. "No, my daughter will not bear her grandmother's name."

"It's believed that Melena is cursed, and any who bears it will suffer the consequences." Partra added.

"But Aunt Melena-"

"Mama's real name before she married Papa was Meliana. When she married Papa and converted, she took the name Melena- not far from her original, the removal of two letters and changing of one. After they took the throne, the changing of names was stopped." Elphaba whispered, gently removing the baby from her breast once the infant had finished nursing. She turned to her husband, holding the baby out to him, and he pulled away from her, startled. A moment passed, before slowly, he allowed his wife to lay the baby in his arms; she lay back among the pillows, watching her husband cradle their daughter in silence.

It was evident, the deep love Trism had for the newborn princess. After the loss of their first child, this royal little girl was the much desired blessing her parents had hoped for. As she grew, she would be doted on by her parents, adored by the entire household and spoiled by her grandmother and great-grandmother, but at that very moment, she was the long-awaited prayer that had been answered.

"How much?" Trism asked, tearing his gaze from his daughter to meet Dillamond's eye.

"Nine pounds, Your Majesty."

"No wonder you struggled during the birth, Fabala." Glinda whispered, horrified, but her cousin simply shrugged.

"Elia was eleven pounds when she was born. I remember Mama saying that the doctor had to pull her out with forceps."

"As long as she is healthy and alive, how much she weighs does not matter." Trism whispered, returning his gaze to his newborn daughter. The baby stared at him with unfocused blue eyes, and after a moment, he met his mother's gaze. "If only father were here-"

Locasta smiled softly. "He is, Trism, my son. He's here, and he's rejoicing in the birth of his granddaughter."


	9. Chapter 9

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"Are you upset? That she is a girl and not a boy?"

The midwife and Doctor Dillamond had since removed themselves, leaving only Elphaba, Trism, and their family. He shook his head. "She is the most beautiful girl in all of Oz, my queen." He kissed her softly. "She is... utter perfection."

"Cattery?" The young maid looked up, startled to be summoned, as she had been in the process of backing towards the door, intent on slipping out of the room in order to give the family privacy.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

Elphaba shifted back against her husband, shifting her child in her arms. "Fetch the Prime Minister."

"What... what shall I tell him, Your Majesty?"

Never removing her gaze from her daughter, Elphaba replied,

"Tell Prime Minister Cherrystone that the baptism of the heir to the Thropp dynasty will take place in two days time. And that his presence, and those of all in Parliament, will be required."

"Yes, Your Majesty." Then, without another word, the young maid rushed from the room.

"Do you really think it wise, Elphaba?" Partra asked, and her granddaughter slowly lifted her gaze.

"Parliament works through me, Grandmama. They do as I say; they do not pass a bill unless I approve it. And... with the arrival of the new heir, there will be changes. Any royal child may take the throne of Fliaan, regardless of sex or birth order. I will not subject my child to the rules my sisters and I were subjected to. And if she chooses to one day marry, it shall be _her_ choice, not mine. And she may choose to follow her heart and marry for love, and not duty, like her daddy and I did."

"But you and Trism turned out okay, Fabala." Glinda cut in. "You are more of a love match than-"

"But through an arranged marriage, Glinda. I will not subject my daughter to an arranged marriage, unless she so chooses."

"But Trism-"

"Trism does not rule Fliaan, Glinda, _I_ do." She turned to her husband. "When it comes to the Vinkus, we make those decisions together, but here, this is _my_ country. She is first and foremost, a daughter of Fliaan."

* * *

The Church of the Sacred Blood was filled to the capacity two days later. As as custom, when a child was born to the rulers of two separate countries, two baptisms would take place, and seeing as the young empress and her Vinkun king had bore their daughter in Fliaan, she would baptized within the Fliaanian church first.

Elphaba and Trism stood with the priest, their family around them, Parliament and various members of the court and other houses in attendance as the young princess, only two days old, was baptized. Elphaba, dressed in a gown of soft emerald green, cradled her daughter in her arms; the long, cream-colored baptism gown had been one she herself had worn, as had her sisters and her brother, and their mother before them. The cap covered the baby's black curls, and her big blue eyes stared up at her mother. She fussed only when the priest anointed her forehead, but other than that, remained silent.

There was the small issue of her name, however; as was custom in Fliaan, a child bore one name, the given name, as well as the patroynmic or matronymic of their parents' name- Elphaba's full name had been Elphaba Frexparia- and the last name, in her mother's case, Thropp. _However_ , in the Vinkus, royal children were known to have more than one name, sometimes three or four- Trism's full name was Trism Kaliko Fyter Manek Tigelaar, named after his maternal uncle, two of his grandfathers and an ancestor, but everyone simply called him Trism- and so when it came time to decide on a name, the two young royals butted heads.

The only thing the young parents could really agree on, name-wise, was her first: Faolána.

Since Trism had often referred to her in utero as their little 'pup', Elphaba had decided that she wanted something along the lines meaning 'wolf' for the baby's name. And then her husband had picked up a book by a famous Vinkun author on one of his trips home to Kiamo Ko, around Elphaba's eighth month of pregnancy- being so close to giving birth, the young queen had been forbidden to travel, and forced to stay at Colwen Grounds, where she plumb near went stir-crazy- and had brought it back for her, hoping it would entertain her enough to help her forget the impending birth and how uncomfortable she had gotten as her pregnancy had progressed. The young empress had finished the book in one night, and then asked her husband to consider the name of the heroine in it for the name of their child, should she bear a daughter. He'd researched the meaning behind the name, and upon discovering that it meant 'little wolf' in Vinkun, Elphaba had declared it was perfect for their little pup.

But that was the only thing they could agree on.

After much arguing, the couple had finally decided that her middle names would not be revealed- or, well, _decided on_ \- until her baptism in the Vinkus four days later.

"I baptize thee Her Imperial Highness, the Grand _Kauri_ , Faolána Elpharia Thropp..."

Because her mother was the empress, the young princess took the matronymic of her mother's name. In the Vinkus, she would take the patronymic of her father's name.

The young royals shared a glance, and as the baby began to fuss, Elphaba shifted her hold on the little one, humming softly to quiet the infant. Elphaba had asked Glinda to be her child's godmother, and the blonde had burst into tears, crying that of course she would, it was an honor-

Now though, the blonde quietly and calmly waited as the young empress gently shifted, laying the baby in her arms. Once Glinda had a tight hold on the infant, Elphaba stepped back, reaching over to cover the hand Trism laid on her shoulder with her own. So entranced with the blue-eyed, black-haired baby girl, Glinda barely had time to focus, and hurriedly whispered 'Yes' to every question asked.

Beside her, the young empress glanced at her husband, sharing a grin; they had definitely chosen well in regards to the baby's godparents- for Avaric had agreed to be the little girl's godfather. The young Evian royal was as taken with the baby as Glinda and her parents were, and when he'd heard the news that, after nearly twenty hours of labor, his darling cousin had birthed a healthy baby girl, he'd commissioned a four-story dollhouse be made for the little princess, that he'd brought with him as a baptism gift. Of course, Elphaba had just stared at him in shock, and her husband had simply shaken his head before helping his wife into the car with a whispered, "Are you _really_ sure you want Avaric to be her godfather? Does he _realize_ that we are not going to allow her to become one of those spoiled, pampered princesses like Iskinaary?"

But Avaric's heart was in the right place; that's what mattered.

Once the ceremony finished, Glinda returned the baby to her mother's arms, and they left the church, stopping however on the landing, for it was custom in Fliaan to present the newly baptized prince or princess to the public. Elphaba shifted the baby to rest against her shoulder, and she glanced at her husband as he slipped an arm around her waist. The crowds gathered strained to get a glimpse of their princess; once the baby reached eight months, the emerald diamonds would be tattooed by her eyes; some traditions were too deep within a country to change.


	10. Chapter 10

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"I fail to see what a dollhouse will do for a _two day old infant_."

Elphaba chuckled, going to her husband after lying the baby, who the young parents had lovingly nicknamed Faola, in her bassinet once her feeding was done. She slid her arms around her husband from behind, resting her head on his shoulder. "Neither do I, but Avaric's heart is in the right place, and that is all that should matter."

He pulled her into his arms, sliding his own around her waist; she still bore a tummy, which would vanish after roughly six weeks, when her uterus returned to normal size. But Elphaba, being the forward, modern girl she was, hadn't bothered to hide her condition at the baptism today. While she had shocked several people- mainly members of Parliament- others had looked to the young empress with awe and acceptance; that she was willing to show her body after the birth of her heir, and not be ashamed of it...

"Mama always informed my sisters and I that we had no reason to be ashamed of having been born female. That it is because of us that the lines continue." As she'd told the wife of one Parliament member who had asked her if she was embarrassed about being out in public two days after giving birth.

"You are nothing if not marvelous, my love." He whispered, kissing her neck, and she giggled, reaching up to cover his arms as they wrapped around her shoulders.

"For bearing a child, Trism?" She asked, pulling away and taking his hand. They stopped by the bassinet, watching their daughter in silence for several minutes. "Women bear children all the time; what I did is not particularly spectacular- it was longer, perhaps, but that was about it."

He pulled her into his arms. "You gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Fabala, my love." He kissed her softly, before taking her hand and tugging her out of the nursery.

"Yes, my love, a nine _pound_ , ten _ounce_ , baby girl. No wonder I had such trouble birthing her." She replied sarcastically. "She wasn't exactly small."

The young king slipped an arm through hers, as they headed down the stairs to the kitchen. "Yes, well, twenty hours of labor and nine pounds is a cake walk, compared to my cousin Noria." He replied, turning to face her and proceeding to walk backwards, never releasing her hand. "Her first child with her husband Irji was fourteen pounds." Elphaba winced. "I know. When the doctors realized that a vaginal birth wasn't possible, she endured a Cesarean."

"Your Majesty." He nodded to one of the servants as he made his way to the stove, putting on a pot of coffee. It was not uncommon to see the young royals in the kitchen; as Elphaba's pregnancy had progressed, she often came downstairs in hopes of satisfying her cravings. Much to her husband's dismay, she had once again craved pinlobble jam, sometimes even forgoing the crackers and using a spoon to eat it from the jar. The young king joked that if their baby grew up to like pinlobble jam, he knew who to blame.

"Did they ever find out what was wrong? Is she okay?"

"Noria's fine, the baby's fine. He's six-years-old now, most spoiled little boy you'll ever meet." He replied, pouring two cups of coffee once it finished brewing. "Turns out, it was an anomaly in regards to her blood sugar, but nobody caught it until after the baby was born. Her blood sugar's regulated now and she's gone on to have... two girls if I remember right."

His wife shivered as she leaned against the counter. "Fourteen pounds; I could not even _imagine_. Nine pounds was difficult." She sipped her coffee. "Well, let's pray the next one is smaller than their sister."

She started when her husband choked.

* * *

 _"Girls, come meet your baby brother."_

 _The children hurried towards the bed; Frexspar lifted Elphaba and then Nessarose onto the bed so they could meet the boy._

 _"He's so wrinkly." Sophelia stated, glancing at her father. Frexpar chuckled._

 _"You're right, Elia, he is."_

 _Melena shook her head. "No, he is perfect. Our little sunbeam, our Shell, the long-awaited prince."_

She was pulled out of her memories by her daughter's cries, and after a moment, moved to scoop the baby up. "Shh, hush, my pup, hush. That's a good girl." She adjusted her hold on the baby, before moving to take a seat in the rocking chair. "Are you hungry? Is that what you desire, my little _Kauri_?" Never taking her eyes off the baby, she shrugged out of her blouse, before guiding the baby to her breast. Once the baby latched on, she sighed, resting her head back against the rocking chair. "I wish you were here, Mama. I wish you could tell me if I am doing this right, this mothering."

 _You are doing a fine job, Fabala, my darling._

Slowly, she lifted her head; Melena stood by the bassinet, looking as young and beautiful as she had been when she married Frexpar, watching her daughter and granddaughter. Elphaba knew that her mother had once been a great beauty; many had asked for her hand, but she had turned them all down. Only Frexpar's proposal she accepted, for she had fallen in love with him when she was merely thirteen and he fifteen, when they had met at a distant cousin's wedding. "Mama."

 _I birthed five children, Fabala, remember that. I was just as scared as you when Elia came into the world._ She knelt before her daughter, studying her granddaughter. _She bears Vinkun eyes-_

"Her daddy's eyes." Elphaba whispered, gently taking her daughter's small hand in hers.

 _And raven hair-_

"The mark of the Thropps." For every Thropp born bore thick raven curls- it was the dynasty's trademark; the girls and women were coveted for their long, thick raven hair, and the men and boys were sought as potential husbands for the famous 'Thropp mop' of curls as other royal houses had called it.

 _She is beautiful. Her name?_ Melena met her daughter's gaze.

"Faolána, but Tris and I call her Faola."

 _Faola... the perfect name for a Fliaanian Kauri._

Elphaba rested her head against the back of the chair. "I miss you, Mama. I miss you so, so much."


	11. Chapter 11

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The baptism in the Vinkus was to be longer than the one in Fliaan, as was custom.

"Fabala, are you ready?" The young queen looked up from threading an earring in as her husband slipped back into the room that was theirs while they were at Kiamo Ko for the baptism. She nodded, slipping into her shoes. Similar to the baptism in Fliaan, when Elphaba, as empress, had worn court dress and poliska for her daughter's baptism, so too did the Vinkun royals wear court dress for the baptism of a royal child.

The dress she wore for her daughter's baptism in the Vinkus was similar to the gown she had worn for coronation; though it was of a soft sapphire blue with a gold design, and ran straight across her chest, the sleeves hanging down and exposing her shoulders and the upper part of her chest, and on her head, tucked within her twist, was a simple diamond and sapphire tiara, reminiscent of a starburst. Trism wore military dress blues, as was custom; she quickly let her eyes rove over her husband appreciatively.

"Where's the baby, Tris?"

He took her hand as they hurried down the stairs. "With her grandmother."

* * *

Trism cradled the baby gently in his arms; she wore the same baptism gown she'd worn for her baptism in Fliaan. Her bright blue eyes, so reminiscent of his own, looked up at him, and he couldn't help the smile that tugged at his lips. Elphaba stood beside him, gently supporting the baby's head, as was custom when a royal infant was baptized in the Vinkus. The cradling of the baby by both parents meant that they would raise her in the faith of the church together.

Locasta stood by her son and daughter-in-law's side, tears in her eyes. In the short nine and a half months or so since they had taken the throne, things had changed; Trism, at his wife's suggestion and urging, had opened the universities to both genders, when before only higher education had been allowed to men; women were allowed to be considered for political positions, and new housing was in the process of being built for those less fortunate in the cities.

Though much of Elphaba's short time as queen had meant she helped her husband make decisions and pass laws from her bed- especially as the birth of their daughter had grown closer- she had still been an instrumental, driving force behind many of the changes made in the short nine months or so since they'd been crowned. But the one law that had been done away with completely by the time the baby had been born was the Law of Succession. In the Vinkus, a daughter could _only_ inherit the throne if there were no sons; though she would inherit the title of Crown Princess, she would _not_ be able to take the throne unless her parents bore no sons after her. And up until Trism was crowned, the law in place had been fine, for very few princesses had been born to Tigelaar ancestors who lived to see adulthood or had not married into other houses.

But now... now with Trism and Elphaba on the throne, and their first child a daughter, the rule had to change. Not long after Elphaba had announced her pregnancy, Trism made it impertinent that the old rule be done away with. He would not watch his daughter fall victim to the law of succession, simply because of her gender. A new law was put into place: regardless of gender, the firstborn child would inherit the throne, if they so chose to when the time came. It was the last law Elphaba herself had signed before she went into labor.

"... Her Imperial Highness, the Crown Princess and Heir Presumptive of the Vinkus..."

The couple shared a glance. Boring didn't even begin to describe it.

"... Grand Duchess of Yeter, Princess of Kelve, Faolána Sophelie Dorathea Rose Tigelaar..."

Her parents shared a glance, and as the priest anointed the infant princess's forehead, the baby began to fuss. Gently, Trism began to bounce his daughter, and Elphaba hummed softly; in a matter of minutes, the court watched as the princess calmed without so much as a wail.

Once the baptism ended, the young royal couple made their way to the balcony; the crowds below them cheered and whistled in excitement. News of the young queen's pregnancy had thrilled the Vinkun people; despite the miscarriage of their last child, for the young royals to be expecting a child so soon after taking the crown was clearly a sign that Saint Lurline was smiling on the Vinkus and her people.

As Trism held their daughter against his shoulder, he felt Elphaba slip her arm through his. The baby stared at everything with her father's wide, blue eyes; Trism was certain the little princess was overwhelmed, anyone would be if they faced thousands of subjects come to celebrate them- her mother had been nervous, and she was a grown woman.

The little princess began to fuss, and Trism turned to his wife; a camera captured stills of the young king slipping their beloved daughter into his wife's arms, images that would be splashed across every Vinkun newspaper, celebrating the baptism of their little Crown Princess.

* * *

"Faol _ána_..." The baby cooed softly at the sing-songing. "Faol _ána_ Sophelie..." Slender fingers gently tickled the baby's tummy as she lay in her bassinet; the singsonging continued. "Fao _lána_ Sophelie Dora _thea_..." Soft nickering reached the baby's ears, and she watched the person standing over her with wide eyes. "Faol _ána_ Sophelie Dora _thea_ Rose... such a beautiful baby... Grandmama loves you... yes, she does... Grandmama loves you so _very much_... my little angel with the big eyes..."

The door to the nursery shut softly, and the woman moved towards the bassinet. She leaned down, tickling her daughter's tummy. "Faol _ána..._ There's my little angel with the big eyes." The young Vinkun queen lifted her daughter from her bassinet, holding her gently against her shoulder. "You've had quite the exciting last few days, haven't you my sweet darling? I bet you're just as happy to be home in Colwen Grounds as Daddy and I are." Elphaba gently pressed a kiss to her daughter's head; the baby watched the woman who stood behind her mother. "If Grandmama Melena were still here with us, I know she would spend all her time cooing over you like Daddy and I have been."

The woman smiled, and then reached up, letting the baby take her hand. She nickered softly, having clearly captured her granddaughter's attention and the baby gurgled in excitement, kicking her tiny legs, her other hand in her mouth. The reaction caused her mother to turn. "Faola, what were you staring at?" The baby gurgled again as the woman appeared, brushing her fingers gently over the baby's black curls.

"Watch over my sweet Fabala for me, my darling." She brushed a kiss to the baby's forehead.

Elphaba turned, but found no one there. It was as though her daughter had been interacting with air.


	12. Chapter 12

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The winter holidays were a first for Elphaba and Trism as a family; though only two months old, Faola could spend hours in her mother's arms, staring out the window at the snow as it fell. She was adored by her parents as well as the rest of the household. Glinda adored her goddaughter, and insisted that when the little princess got older, she should come visit Gillikin so as to give her parents a few days to themselves.

With her pale skin and black curls, she was the mirror image of her mother, with the exception of her eyes, which were all her father.

"Are you sure the diamonds won't hurt her?" Elphaba gently removed the baby's mouth from her breast, holding her against her shoulder and rubbing her back.

"Did your diamonds hurt when they were added?" His wife asked, kissing her daughter's hair.

"Not really, but my diamonds were added when I was _ten_ , not when I was eight months old. That's a big difference."

"Darling, relax," She replied, as he took his daughter into his arms and allowed his wife to stand. "Her diamonds won't be added until June; that's six months away."

After changing the little girl and getting her ready for bed, the young king laid her in her bassinet, kissing the baby's forehead before following his wife out of the room. With the door left open a crack, he followed his wife to their bed, shutting and locking the door silently behind them. They changed for bed in silence, before,

"Fabala, she's a _baby_."

His wife turned to him, releasing her hair from the twist she'd put it up in earlier. "I know that, Tris. But I also know that it's tradition. All royal Fliaanian children have the diamonds tattooed by their eyes when they reach eight months of age. All my sisters had it done, I did, my brother. Why should my daughter be any different?" She finished, climbing beneath the covers. He met her gaze.

"Why _shouldn't_ she be? Fabala, she's my daughter, too."

"I know she is, darling." She replied, reaching up to brush her fingers through his hair. "But there are some traditions you simply do not break."

He leaned over, kissing her soundly on the mouth. "Such as making love to my wife the way a wolf does with its mate." He growled softly, pulling her into his lap so that she was straddling him. She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as she narrowed her gaze skeptically.

"Since when did that become a tradition?"

He tugged gently at the light nightgown she wore, slipping his hands beneath it and up her back. He kissed her firmly, before pulling away and removing the nightgown and her knickers. "I'd say it's relatively new." He countered, as she helped him out of his pajamas and then allowed him to shift her to her hands and knees. He trailed kisses down her back. "Can we?" He asked, suddenly wary. She turned to him, sitting back on her knees and taking his face in her hands.

"Doctor Dillamond said nothing about _not_. I'd say it's safe, my love." She replied, kissing him. "Besides, I want to feel you in me again." He groaned softly as she scooted back, pressing her hips into his.

"You are not making it easy to resist you, Fabala."

She giggled, turning to meet his gaze. "Good. Because I would rather you have me than resist me, my king." She whispered, kissing his gently, her fingers trailing down his stomach to tease and stroke him. Another soft groan escaped his throat, and after several minutes, he gently pushed her back onto her hands and knees. He trailed a finger down her spine, before lightly grasping her hips and pushing into her.

She moaned in pleasure, her moans getting longer as he adjusted to being inside her again. As he shifted, he brushed against the bundle of nerves between her thighs and she cried in surprise. "Fabala?" She shook her head.

 _"It's okay... oh, keep going, my king... and please... do it again... you... brushed against me and... it felt so... oh, so good..."_ He pushed into her; the rhythm familiar by now, they fell into it easily. Their groans of pleasure spurred the other on, once more mating like dogs in heat. _"Harder, my king... keep going... I need you... inside me..."_

Since Faola's birth, Elphaba had worried that her husband had lost interest in her or turned to other women. She needn't have worried though; Trism's blue eyes only focused on her; they only looked at her, and the only time they ever strayed was to drink in the sight of their beautiful little princess. Elphaba was his; she was the only woman who could satisfy him, body, heart and soul, and no one would change his mind. She was his queen, the one that mattered, the most important piece in this game. To stray from her would be to deliberately lose, and Trism was not the kind of man to make a move deliberately, especially if it did not benefit him, his family, or his kingdom.

She moaned softly, shifting her hips against him, knowing full well the reaction she would get. He thrust into her, harder, deeper, and she cried out in delight. _"Oh, my Fabala... my beautiful, Vinkun queen..."_ Deeper, harder. Bruises were forming on her soft porcelain hips, bruises he softly kissed away before thrusting faster. The rhythm picked up, hearts quickening with each movement.

 _"Deeper, Tris... please... I'm so close..."_

 _"Oh, Fabala... almost..."_

Before Faola had made her appearance, her parents often spent all night making love; but since the baby's arrival, the young rulers had quickly learned that stealing a few moments for each other was next to impossible, so on nights like this, they often took their time getting reacquainted. As they cried for each other in beautiful release, they savored the feeling of being together, of simply being a couple, because as young parents and rulers, they did not know when next they would have time like this to themselves.

* * *

She was silent, lost in thought, barely listening as the Prime Minister spoke.

"... Your Majesty!" She looked up, drawn from whatever had been running through her head by the Prime Minister's voice.

"Yes?"

Cherrystone glanced at the young Vinkun king; Trism still sat in on meetings with Parliament. Mostly, he kept silent, except when Elphaba asked for his input or opinion. But today, his beloved wife had said next to nothing during meetings; if anything, her head appeared to be stuck in the clouds. "Excuse me for saying so, but have you lost your senses, Your Majesty? You are acting as a woman acts when she is with child-"

Elphaba lifted her head, and then, after a moment, stood; all of Parliament stood with her, and Trism hurried to his feet. "You guessed correctly, Prime Minister. I am acting as a woman with child acts because," She glanced at her husband. "Because I am with child again." And without another word, she strode out of the meeting, leaving her husband to catch up.

* * *

"Fabala! Fabala... _wait_!" She ignored her husband, making her way to the waiting car. "Fabala-" He grabbed her arm, causing her to turn. "When were you going to tell me that you are pregnant again, my queen?"

She met his gaze, biting her lip. "I realized a week ago, when I missed my cycle." And then climbed into the car, waiting for him to join her.

"Are you _sure_ , my love?" He asked, once by her side. She nodded.

"I know my body, Tris. I have all the symptoms. If I'm right, we conceived at the beginning of the month, and this new little one will arrive..."

"August." He whispered, reaching over to take her hand. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She met his gaze. "Having another baby, so close to the first-"

"They will not be close, Trism, they will be eleven months apart."

"That is still fairly close in age."

"You and your brother are only ten months apart." She replied, and his blue gaze darkened. "Papa and my Uncle Shem were only nine months apart in age. Why is this baby any different?"

He sighed, knowing she was right. "But do you really think we're ready for this? Another baby?"

She curled into his side as the car made its way back to Colwen Grounds. "We're going to have to be, my love."


	13. Chapter 13

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"Are you _certain_ that you're pregnant, Fabala? Could it not be false?"

The young empress shook her head. Four months into her current pregnancy, Trism had returned to the Vinkus; she would follow in a day's time, for they would be accepting the newly elected Governor of the Free State of Munchkinland on a state visit to the Vinkus. The Governor had already visited Fliaan and met with Elphaba and Parliament, and he had been surprised to discover that not only was Elphaba Empress of Fliaan, but through her marriage to Trism, the Queen of the Vinkus.

"Tris asked the same when I told him." She replied. They were seated in the Cerulean Room, having tea and catching up; Glinda had spent the last several weeks in Gillikin with her parents. Partra had returned to her residence in the City, but had promised to return for the birth of her second grandchild. "I know my body, Glinda. Even if I hadn't asked Doctor Dillamond to do an examination that proved positive, I would still know." She looked up as Cattery entered with Faola in her arms; the young maid took it upon herself to watch over the young _Kauri_ when her mother was busy, and if Elphaba were honest, she trusted Cattery the most. The girl had certainly proven her worth and loyalty, to both Trism and Elphaba.

"There is my little princess." Elphaba whispered, setting her cup down and standing, taking her daughter into her arms; the six-month-old princess was dressed in a light blue dress of soft cotton, her short hair held back by bows. "Thank you, Cattery. I hope she was not too much trouble." The young maid shook her head.

"No trouble at all, Your Majesty. The little princess could never be trouble." She replied, tickling the bottom of the girl's feet, making her giggle.

The young empress gave the maid a look. _Clearly, you don't know my daughter._

Once the maid had returned to her housework, Elphaba turned her full attention to her daughter. Glinda watched her cousin; this being her second pregnancy, it was evident that the young empress was expecting- her curves were getting softer and her belly could be seen through her clothing easier. After returning to her seat, Elphaba settled Faola on her lap, gently brushing her fingers through the baby's black curls.

"Tris is... both terrified and thrilled at the same time."

"Why wouldn't he be?" Glinda asked, watching as the child gently patted her mother's small belly. "Faola must be excited."

"I don't know that she necessarily understands what exactly is going on. She just knows that Mommy is getting big." She pressed a kiss to her daughter's head. "She doesn't exactly understand that her little brother is growing in my tummy, do you Faola, love?" Elphaba asked, nuzzling her nose against her daughter's, and the baby giggled, clapping her hands.

"Brother?" The blonde raised an eyebrow. "You're _that_ certain?"

"Trism is _convinced_ I am carrying another girl. But I know it's a son; I can't explain it, Glinda, I just know." She whispered, reaching down and gently caressing her belly. "I love my sisters, but you do not realize how difficult it was, being one of a quartet of daughters, all in a row." Her gaze moved to the portrait hanging over the fireplace. "I often thought, had Shell been born between us, things might have been better, and that Mama might not have treated us to be so similar." She glanced at her daughter, who sat curled against her breast, watching her mother with big blue eyes. She kissed her daughter's head. "I will not do that with my children. If I do some day have two daughters in a row, they will be allowed their own personalities, their own clothing choices, their own thoughts and expressions. They will not turn out like my sisters and I did."

* * *

She gently laid the baby in her crib later that night. Glinda had retired to her room, and Elphaba, unable to sleep, had slipped into the nursery for some time with her daughter. She leaned against the crib, as her daughter held tight to her finger. "We won't get many moments together once your little brother comes in August, my darling. You will have to share Daddy and I after his birth." She sighed, reaching her other hand down to cradle her belly. "But that does not mean that we will love you any less; it just means that we had so much love in our hearts that we needed to have another baby to contain it all."

"I've never heard it quite put like that," She turned, as Trism turned on the light and made his way towards her. "But I think it's a wonderful way to explain the baby to her, even if she doesn't understand just yet."

"What are you doing here, my love? You are supposed to be in the Vinkus." She wrapped her arms around his neck when he got close enough, and he slid his arms around her waist, holding her to him.

"I got back a couple hours ago. I wanted to spend one more night with you before we meet the Governor of the Free State of Munchkinland in two days." He replied, kissing her softly. "Why do they need a new governor anyway? What was wrong with the one they had? Why change?"

She laughed softly, resting her hands on his chest. "I would not suggest bringing those questions up to him in two days, my love. You might not get the best response, or start an international incident."

He thought a moment. "You might be right, my queen." He moved to lean over the crib. "And how is my little princess?" The baby watched her father, trying hard to keep her eyes open. Elphaba joined him, reaching down to gently stroke her daughter's cheek.

"I can see the sandman pulling at her eyelids." Once they were certain the baby was asleep, they slipped out of the nursery, heading for their room, when Trism scooped her up. _"Tris!"_

" _Shh_. You'll wake the household, Fabala." He whispered, carrying her into their room and softly shutting the door.

* * *

She sighed, feeling her husband slide an arm around her waist; gently, he cradled her belly, holding her to him as he buried his face in her hair. But their sleep was soon interrupted by a soft knock on their bedroom door. She groaned, shifting onto her other side, nuzzling into his chest. The knocking started up again.

Her eyes opened slowly as she felt Trism slip from the bed and make his way to the door. Her husband yawned as he pulled it only slightly open. "Yes?"

 _"Girls, you must hurry. Up and dress, quickly. And do not forget to take your medicines."_

She slowly pushed herself up onto her elbow. "... will arrive..."

 _"Hurry girls, hurry. Uncle Manek and his men will arrive to fetch us soon."_

"Yes, thank you. Give us a few minutes, and we'll be right down." Without another word, Trism shut the door and returned to the bed.

"Tris? Who was that?" She absentmindedly stroked her belly, as her husband climbed back in beside her.

"The valet. Letting us know that the train will arrive to take us to the Vinkus at nine, and that the Governor's visit will be at two this afternoon. Although why they insisted on waking us up at the Unnamed Godly hour of one in the morning, instead of waiting until a reasonable hour is... yond... me." He yawned, curling back around his wife. "Go back to sleep, Fabala, you and the baby need it." Without a word, she curled back into his arms, letting sleep overtake her.


	14. Chapter 14

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Trism pressed a soft kiss to Locasta's cheek, before stepping aside and allowing Elphaba to do the same. The Dowager Queen then took the baby into her arms. Both Trism and Elphaba noticed that since Faola's birth, Locasta had seemed to come out of mourning little by little. Though she would never fully recover from Traper's premature death at forty, becoming a grandmother had helped the once former Evian princess to realize that she could not bury herself completely in mourning for her lost love; that her son and daughter-in-law were now ruling the Vinkus, and they had a beautiful little princess to raise, as well as another baby on the way.

"How was the trip?"

"How it always is." Trism replied, as Elphaba slipped her arm through his. Locasta nodded, pressing a kiss to her granddaughter's head.

"Yes, well, I'd tell you that there is time for you both to rest up, but unfortunately that's not the case. The Governor insists on meeting you in two hours." The young king sighed, closing his eyes briefly.

"Does he not _realize_ that we just came from Fliaan, we have a six-month-old baby girl and my wife is expecting our second?" He asked, as Elphaba gently squeezed his arm. "Would he rather meet with me, so at least my wife and unborn child can get some rest? He has already met Fabala-"

"He wants to meet you both. He said that... he was quite surprised that the Fliaanian empress was also the Vinkun Queen, but once he realized your marriage, then he understood. Since Fabala is your consort, he believes it would be best to meet with you both in order to discuss possible trade treaties between our two countries."

Trism sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose in annoyance. "This man is going to drive me to drink." He muttered, lifting his head after a moment's pause.

"When that happens, have a drink for me as well, my love." She whispered, squeezing his hand, and he met her gaze.

* * *

They awaited the Governor in the throne room; the rest of the court waited anxiously, all eyes on their monarchs. Both were dressed in their finest. Elphaba shifted slightly; though only four months along, she was still able to wear her regular clothing, however slightly uncomfortable she might be. Trism glanced at her, reaching over and holding out a hand, which she took with a gentle squeeze. It was custom, when receiving the leaders from other houses or countries, that the Vinkun royals appear in full regalia; for this reason, Elphaba wore a court dress and a crown specifically made for the young queen, with Vinkun sapphires and pearls.

The double doors opened, and a page entered, leading a young man dressed in a nice suit. The couple shared a glance, both sitting up a little straighter. They watched in silence as the man looked around at the grand court; seemingly in awe of everything. "May I present, before His Imperial Majesty, King Trism IV and Her Imperial Majesty, Queen Elphaba of the Vinkus, the Eminence of the East, His Governorship, Oscar Zoroaster Diggs II." Elphaba sat up straighter, upon hearing his name.

This was _not_ the man she had met weeks ago; he was younger, probably around her and Trism's ages or so, but those features, those eyes- she could never forget those eyes.

 _"For crimes against the state of Fliaan, it is decided, Frexpar Thropp, that you and your family... will die."_

The young man bowed before them, before slowly lifting his head and studying the royals before him. He remembered the aide making some mention of an empress that was also a queen through marriage; this must have been who the aide had been talking about.

"You have come to the Vinkus to speak of possible trade treaties between our two countries."

"Y... yes, Your Majesty." The young man whispered, lowering his head, though he chanced a glance at the young queen before doing so. Was that really the famous princess who had gone missing from Fliaan during the massacre of her family?

"As I understand it, your father started possible negotiations with Fliaan, but that was all."

"There were talks of trade with Fliaan, but my father passed away before anything could be set into motion, Your Majesty. I inherited his position."

"And your father," Elphaba started, voice steady. "was the leader of the revolutionary party in Fliaan, correct?"

Slowly, the young man lifted his head. "Ye.. yes, Your Majesty."

Releasing her husband's hand, she stood, moving slowly down the dais, keeping her gaze locked steadily on him. "Your father, was the man who set into motion and helped to carry out the massacre of the last Fliaanian royal family, correct?"

Cautiously, he lifted his gaze to meet hers. She stood before him on the last step of the dais, gaze narrowed, one hand resting gently against her growing abdomen. It was then that he saw the diamonds on either side of her eyes-

"I am the only survivor of the _family_ your father _slaughtered_ in that basement back in nineteen-eighteen."

 _Frexpar turned to his wife, confusion in his gaze. "What? What did-"_

"I was _fourteen_ , and I watched my family _die_ on your father's orders."

"I... I'm sorry, Your-"

"And now you come here, after your father has passed away, after taking over the role of Governor after he destroyed my family... and you ask to talk trade with me and my husband." He slowly lowered his gaze. "I did not realize that the older man I had spoken with earlier was one in the same, but I do now. If you wish to talk of any form of alliance or treaty, you will do so with my husband, but I shall not be a part of it; not as Queen of the Vinkus, and _certainly_ not as the Empress of Fliaan." She turned to her husband, who had come down the steps to regain some semblance of control. "Speak with him if you feel you must, my king, but know that I will not take part. I will not sit and break bread or sign treaties with the _son_ of the very _man_ who _stole_ my family from me."

And without another word, she stormed from the throne room, leaving stunned silence in her wake.


	15. Chapter 15

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The door shut softly behind her; she had returned to Kiamo Ko, needed to get as far away as possible. After being helped out of her court dress, she slipped back into a simple shift dress; having checked on her daughter after returning- the girl was being looked after by a nanny- she returned to their room, perching on the edge of the bed.

Her hands went to her belly, and after a moment, she stood, going to the mirror. Silent, she studied herself, noting the small changes that she hadn't noticed with her first pregnancy. She was filling out more, becoming softer sooner.

 _"It will be okay. Everything will be all right, my darlings."_

 _The steps creaked as they moved down them._

 _Twenty-nine steps._

 _Twenty-nine steps that led to a fate no one could have predicted._

Her appetite had changed, as it had when she was pregnant the first time; constantly hungry, constantly eating, making sure the baby had the nutrients it needed. To think, if the revolutionaries had succeeded in killing all of them that night...

 _You would not be here, Trism would have married someone else, your daughter would not be sleeping in the next room, and this baby you carry... it would not exist. Had Diggs succeeded in killing everyone that night, this life, this beautiful future that will appear in five months would never happen. So in a way, you have that bastard former husband of yours to thank._

She choked on a sob, slowly sinking to the floor, legs folded beneath her, arms protectively cradling her belly. She had to protect the baby.

 _"Is Uncle Manek going to meet us down here?"_

 _"Hush, Nessa."_

 _Diggs smiled at them; it made her nervous, and she clung tight to Raina's hand, pulling Nessa closer to her as they passed by him into the basement._

She pressed gently against the swell of her belly, she could feel light kicks as the baby shifted, and after a moment, she closed her eyes, trying to get the images in her head to go away, to no avail.

 _She gently adjusted the bow in her sister's hair before turning back to face the front. Mama wouldn't be happy if the photograph showed Nessa with a crooked bow. An excited thrill shot through her; despite everything that had gone on in the last several weeks, the fact that they would soon be leaving with Uncle Manek, to go to Gillikin until the revolution ended... she would get to see Glinda again, and they could spend time together like they used to before Uncle Manek and Aunt Illnora took Glinda and returned to Gillikin._

"Elphaba?" A soft knock caused her to turn, and she found herself meeting Locasta's gaze. "Elphaba, you're supposed to-" But she stopped when she saw the tears in her daughter-in-law's gaze. "Fabala, what's wrong? Is it the baby?" But the young queen shook her head.

"It... it's _him_..."

"I don't understand."

She took a deep breath. " _The Governor... he... he took over after his... father passed away... Oscar Diggs... he... he's the son... he's the son of the man who... who executed my family that night..._ " Locasta pulled the young woman into her arms, suddenly realizing why she had returned from the visit early.

 _Love of the Unnamed God, the pain she must have felt when she realized..._ The dowager pressed a firm kiss to her daughter-in-law's head, before helping her stand. Once they were seated on the bed, Locasta gently brushed the tears from Elphaba's cheeks. "I'm so sorry, darling. I can only imagine the shock you must have felt upon seeing him." Elphaba buried her face in Locasta's chest, clinging to her.

 _The bullets would bounce off their chests, off their clothing, as though protected by the angels themselves. Occasionally, when one would strike, it would cut through flesh as it whizzed past, often missing its target. To say it was chaotic was an understatement. Between the smoke and the screaming, no one was sure of what exactly was happening._

"Elphaba, look at me. I'm going to have one of the maids draw you a warm bath, okay? I think that might help calm you."

* * *

"I see it, in my dreams. Even now, I still see it, I still taste it, I can still feel the bullets. I can still hear my sisters' screams... I don't think I'll ever get the image of Elia's head exploding out of my mind."

Locasta sat perched on the edge of the tub; after having a bath drawn, she'd helped the young queen into the hot water; the heat from the water seemed to relax her, and her mother-in-law watched as the young woman gently stroked her belly as she curled up in the tub. "I can't even imagine going through that, let alone surviving." She whispered, and Elphaba met her gaze. "I guess my good-for-nothing son was good for something."

Elphaba nodded. "But what do we do about the treaties? I won't talk to him, I can't. Not without breaking down completely. And I know I promised Trism-"

"Sweetheart, I'm sure he understands-"

"Fabala! _Elphaba!_ " The two women looked up at the sound of footsteps on the stairs, to see the young king make his way into the bathroom. "There you are." Without another word, he strode over to the tub and held out a hand. She looked at her mother-in-law, before reaching out to take his hand, but he opened his fingers, and something dropped into her palm. "He asked me to give it to you. He said he wasn't sure if it was real, but that you would know, and if it was, then he might be able to get you the rest."

"What is it?" Locasta asked, leaning close. Elphaba lifted it up, studying it intently. A soft cry escaped her throat, and tears began to slip down her cheeks.

"It... it's a ring... this... this is _Mama's engagement ring_..."


	16. Chapter 16

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Trism shrugged. "He said that he found it in a safe when he was going through his father's things. He'd never seen it before, but he was certain it had something to do with the Fliaanian royal family, especially considering his father's role in it, and asked me to give it to you; he thought that maybe you could identify it."

"This was Mama's engagement ring... Papa gave it to her the night they got engaged; they used the diamond to carve their names and the date in a pane of window glass at Mockbeggar Hall, the summer palace they were staying at."

"But how did he-"

"My family's crown jewels. When... when I came back... I asked Parliament about them, and... and Cherrystone said that... that other than a few that were squirreled away to safety during the revolution, the majority of my family's jewels went missing about the time my family disappeared." She reached for her husband, who helped her out of the water and quickly wrapped a towel around her. "But Mama..." She rushed from the room, her mother-in-law and husband following. "Mama told us to... to 'mind our medicines'."

"I don't understand, Fabala, what does that even _mean_?"

"You were hiding the jewelry in your clothes." Locasta whispered, realizing what her son failed to grasp. Elphaba nodded.

"That's how my siblings and I survived the first onslaught of bullets. We'd sewn the jewelry into our clothes and our corsets, but... but the men thought we were protected by the Unnamed God himself." She sniffled, turning and rushing to the boudoir. "I think your brother might have buried some, but I'm not sure where..." Grabbing a fresh change of clothes, she quickly dressed and moved to leave the room when Trism stopped her.

"Fabala... _Fabala, stop!_ You need to calm down-"

"I _need_ to _talk_ to him, Trism! If he had Mama's ring, then who knows what other jewelry he has that's rightfully mine!"

The young king grabbed her shoulders. "Elphaba, _stop!_ You're starting to get frantic! _This isn't good for you or the baby!"_

She met his gaze, her hand curled tight around the diamond ring. "This is my _mother's ring_ , Trism... these jewels are all that's left of my family..."

" _You have a family!"_ He cried, grabbing her face and forcing her to meet his gaze. " _We_ have a family! Or did you forget that little girl sound asleep across the hall or that _baby_ growing inside you? _That's our family, Fabala! Ours! Yours! Not those jewels!_ "

She shook her head, tears slipping down her cheeks. " _My sisters... my brother... my parents..._ " She broke down then, her grip on the ring relaxing; it fell from her hand, landing on the floor, stained red, from when it'd cut into her palm. Without a word, Trism gathered her to his chest, realizing he'd not only briefly lost his temper, but struck a nerve.

* * *

Locasta looked up as her son came into the kitchen after putting his wife to bed. When he'd finally gotten her to calm down enough, he'd undressed her and tucked her beneath the covers before checking on Faola and coming downstairs, to find his mother in the sitting room, in front of the fire. After a moment, he joined her, feeling mentally and emotionally drained.

"She can't let go of this... of _them_."

"Trism," Slowly, the young king met his mother's gaze. "Have you considered how losing her family has affected Elphaba?"

The young man shook his head.

"She was locked in a basement; she faced a firing squad; she watched her parents get shot and then listened to her sisters and brother as they were slaughtered all around her. And then your brother did what he did- he got her out, but at the cost of her memory- and then for her to be found again after ten years, with no real memories of what happened that night, no _idea_ of where her family is, plus the survivor's guilt that she's suffering from... followed by a marriage, a child, two countries to rule- the weight of her homeland rests on her shoulders- regardless of Parliament... and another baby on the way... Tris," She reached up, brushing the hair off his forehead.

"What she's going through right now is a massive amount of weight on her small shoulders. Her psyche is _bound_ to be damaged. She's bound to not let this go, because for her, regaining even a _fraction_ of those jewels back means that at least she knows that part of her family is coming back to her. It may not be them, because let's face it, they're long dead and gone- and if they are alive, it's one massive miracle- but it's something she can hold onto; it's something she can touch that isn't just a photograph, and say, 'This belonged to my mother' or 'My sister received this as a birthday present' or 'My father got this for my brother'. They're a part of her family, because they belonged to them. Maybe, if she gets the jewels back, they'll help bring a little bit of closure. But you _have_ to be there to support her; not just as her king, but as her husband."

* * *

Later that night, he slipped in beside her, curling around her, one arm slipping down to caress her belly. He pressed a soft kiss to her head, and she shifted, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I never realized how important those jewels are to you. I never should have lost my temper like I did. I apologize."

A moment passed, before she gently squeezed his hand, the meaning clear. _I accept your apology, my love._


	17. Chapter 17

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The next afternoon, Trism and Elphaba agreed to meet with the Governor; after a long discussion, the young royals agreed to consider a trade treaty with Munchkinland, only if the Governor helped to restore the Fliaanian crown jewels to their rightful place. Upon realizing the significance of the ring, and how much it and the other missing jewels meant to the queen, he agreed; partially for the trade agreement, but mainly because if he could, he wanted to help right an injustice done to Fliaan and her people, and by extension, the royal family, and if he could somehow make it up to the last surviving daughter, well, he hoped that would do.

"I think it would be best if we discussed not only the trade treaty but also the jewels after the baby is born in August, if you don't mind, Governor."

The young man shook his head. "Not at all. That would actually work out perfectly. I'm getting married in late July."

Trism raised an eyebrow, looking up as Elphaba entered with Faola balanced on her hip. "Congratulations."

"Of course, as custom, you both will receive an invitation-" Trism waved it away as his wife joined him.

"Thank you for considering, but I don't believe we will be going much of anywhere, what with my wife being so close to birth by then." He accepted the baby, settling her on his hip with a kiss to her forehead. Zor- for he preferred to be called such in order to distinguish between him and his father- watched the young family with a twinge of envy.

He'd gone into this visit expecting one thing and receiving quite another; the Vinkun queen and Fliaanian empress were one in the same- the only surviving child of the very Fliaanian royal family his father had disposed of personally- and the Vinkun king had married the returned princess after his brother had walked out on her- after marrying her in hopes of personal gain. It was evident, however, that though they had not been married very long; a year and a half, at most, and already with a baby girl and another on the way...

But the way the king looked at his queen, the way he spoke about her, how he reacted whenever she was near- that was what Zor envied. The subtle flicker of desire in his blue eyes whenever he met her gaze; how he touched her, softly, as though she were made of the finest porcelain; the way he would smile whenever the mere thought of her crossed his mind... these were the things he hoped to experience one day.

The Vinkun king redefined the word 'gentleman'; he was courteous, kind, tender around his wife. It was very, deeply evident that of everything and everyone, she was his crown jewel, his shining star, his soulmate and love match. She was the most important thing to him, he saw no other woman but her. And she, this young Vinkun queen, this Fliaanian empress, was just as much in love with him as he with her. They were very deeply passionate about each other, that it was no surprise she was pregnant with a second child.

Very few marriages had been built on love, and continued with children, he knew. His parents' had been a loveless marriage; many of the royal houses contained loveless marriages, but this one. He'd heard of the love that had ended the Thropp dynasty, of the love that had built the Tigelaar dynasty, but this- a merging of both dynasties, a joining of the House of Tigelaar and the House of Thropp- even in this day and age, it was unheard of.

Unheard of, but clearly very real.

Gently, Trism kissed his daughter on the cheek, before turning back to the young Governor. "You will of course receive an invitation to the baptism." He slipped his arm around his wife's waist, pulling her close. She rested her hands on her belly, a blush coloring her pale cheeks.

"I would be honored. Are you having a boy or a girl, Your Majesty?"

The sly look she gave her husband meant something was up, and after a moment, she met Zor's gaze again. "His Majesty believes that I am carrying another daughter; I however, believe I am carrying a son."

"We shall see who is right once the baby enters the world, my love." Trism replied, kissing her temple.

"And if you have another daughter?" The king scoffed gently.

"She would insist we continue to try until she bears a son."

"And when would that be, Your Majesty?"

Elphaba met his gaze. "Thirty."

 _"Thirty?"_

"When I was a child, Governor, I was determined to marry a Fliaanian soldier and have thirty children."

"I've been trying to get her to settle for two." Trism whispered, and Elphaba gently swatted him on the chest.

"How is two fair, my king? What if I simply bear daughters?"

"You could have eight." Zor suggested, and the young royals turned to look at him. "Four daughters, four sons." A moment passed, before Elphaba nodded, gently rubbing her belly.

"Eight sounds fair, don't you think so, my darling?" She asked, turning to grin at her husband. The young Governor quickly backed up; clearly the young king was not only un-amused- if the look on his face was any indication- but most likely blamed him for putting the suggestion into her head.

* * *

The young royals chose to stay in the Vinkus for the remainder of Elphaba's pregnancy, so they could spend some time with Locasta, as well as get things done or laws signed before Elphaba's time. As it got closer to the birth, Doctor Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos were sent for, as well as Cattery. Glinda arrived from Gillikin, and Partra came from the City. It was a cheerful reunion of family, as by the time both the young blonde and the Dowager Empress arrived, Elphaba was well into her final weeks of pregnancy.

That night, that balmy August evening, after everyone retired, started out quietly, as sleep claimed the inhabitants of the palace.

She bolted upright, pain grabbing her around the middle. "Oh... Tris... Trism... _Trism!_ " She shook her husband firmly.

"Yes, my love?" He whispered, shaking the sleep from his eyes. She closed her eyes, hands pressed firmly on either side of her belly.

"Wake the others... tell them it's time..."


	18. Chapter 18

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _"Mama! Mama!"_

The young queen's screams echoed throughout the palace. Servant and family member alike rushed to attend, to fetch whatever she needed or whatever Doctor Dillamond and the midwife requested. News of the impending birth soon spread throughout Arjiki, and people began to gather, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the new prince or princess.

Much like her first, this birth was long and painful. Only a few servants dared overstep their boundaries and enter the bedroom where the queen lay in the throes of labor. However, unlike her first birth, her waters had not yet broken.

 _"Mama!"_

Unaware of whether she was crying out for her deceased mother or her mother-in-law, no one moved. Not until the king realized and rushed to the door, poking his head out.

"Mother, she wants you."

Locasta, who had been there in Fliaan for the birth of her granddaughter, knew the customs of the Vinkun court; a Dowager was not permitted in the bedchamber of a birthing queen- it was seen as an acceptance of one's rank, that the Dowager acknowledged that her place was no longer on the throne, and that the throne now belonged to the young woman in the process of bringing forth the next heir into the world. It was a tradition one did not break, so when Trism poked his head out and asked her to come, she hesitated.

But only for a moment.

This was her son's court now, her son's rule. And he and his wife were breaking down some of the barriers set up by kings in the past, for the good of the country and her people. Without a word, she moved past the rest of the household and into the bedroom, the door clicking shut behind her. Elphaba reached for her mother-in-law, and Locasta hurried to her, taking her hand; it was clear that Elphaba was seeing the Dowager Queen as a mother figure, not in place of the mother she lost, but added to.

 _"Mama, I'm scared... I'm scared..."_

"Shh, hush my darling. You have done this before, remember, there's nothing to fear."

"But... but the baby... what if..." Locasta kissed her forehead, understanding. What if the baby was bigger than nine pounds, what if something happened during the labor and the baby didn't survive, what if _she_ didn't survive... every fear that had once gone through Locasta's own head. After a cursory examination revealed that her waters had still not broken yet, but that the baby was beginning to crown, the midwife nodded to Doctor Dillamond.

Being exceedingly careful of the laboring young mother, Dillamond helped her husband get her out of the bed and to the birthing stool. Once she was seated, her progress was checked. Midwife Ottokos glanced at Dillamond before turning to the royal couple. "The babe is just starting to crown, but Her Majesty's waters have not broken. We can either break her waters or allow them to break on their own-"

The young queen let out a cry as she felt something burst between her parted legs; water puddled on the floor and dripped down her thighs. _"Oh, make it stop..."_

She felt Trism behind her, rubbing her back, whispering softly to her. "Easy, my love... that's it, easy..." He pressed a kiss to her knuckles, her forehead, her hair, being tender; he had learned from Faola's birth that his role was to provide encouragement to his queen as she suffered through the painful, long process of childbirth.

The pain got worse; now familiar with the sensations her body was experiencing, she could recognize what was happening- the horrible buildup of pressure within her womb was the due to the baby engaging and pushing against her opening; she was certain her husband could give her the proper anatomical terms, but at that moment, that was the last thing she wanted to focus on.

A scream escaped her throat, and those outside the room jumped. It was completely unheard of to hear a Vinkun royal scream while in the throes of childbirth; especially that of a queen. There was an unspoken code in regards to what went on in the bedroom of reigning monarchs, and when a child was making its entrance in the world, the mother either made very little or no sound during the birthing process. To hear a queen responding vocally to the pain was as taboo as partaking in intercourse on all fours- of which their king and queen partook in frequently.

Very slowly, with each push, the head began to appear at her opening. Elphaba leaned back against her husband, holding tight to her mother-in-law and grandmother's hands. _"It burns... oh..."_ With Faola's birth, the baby had already crowned, but with this one... she turned to her husband, fear in her dark eyes. " _Trism... wh.. why is it burning?"_

But before he could answer, Locasta spoke up. "It's just a reaction, Fabala. It'll stop once the baby crowns." Glinda and Cattery held her legs apart so as to allow her more freedom to bear down during the birthing process, and she took full advantage of it. _"Push, Fabala, that's it! Push!"_

Seconds turned into minutes, which turned into hours. Eventually, a soft knock sounded on the door and Cattery pulled away from her mistress, answering it. It was the nanny, holding Faola in her arms; the eleven-month old had been awoken by the chaos, and wanted her mother.

 _"No! I don't... want her... in here..."_ Elphaba snapped, digging her nails into her husband's thigh as she bore down again, crying out as she felt the baby's head move out of her.

"She's wants her mother, Your Majesty-" The nanny responded, but Elphaba shook her head.

"She can... come in after... her brother is born..." Trism met Cattery's eyes, shaking his head softly, making it clear. _Keep Faola out there; she doesn't need to see her Mama in so much pain. It will only scare her._

After making sure the little princess stayed safely outside the bedroom, Cattery returned to her mistress's side, gently stroking her thigh and whispering softly to her as she had done during Elphaba's last birth.

The crowds continued to gather in the cities; those who lived not far from Kiamo Ko gathered outside the palace, saying prayers and holding their breath, hoping for a safe delivery of the king and queen's second child. The members of the court gathered, eagerly awaiting news of the new baby; it was custom in the Vinkus that upon the birth of a newborn, a candle would be lit in the window of the monarch's bedroom, so as to alert the people that a new heir had arrived; one for a girl, two for a boy. Every person in the Vinkus, from the cities to the villages, waited eagerly to see how many flames would dance before the glass.

 _"Ah... Trism..."_ He kissed her temple, keeping her upright when all she desperately wanted to do was lie down. _"It hurts... oh... Trism!"_

Her husband pressed another kiss to her temple. _"Keep going, my love. You're almost done. That's it, my darling! Push, hard as you can! Keep pushing, Fabala, keep pushing! Again! That's it, my strong queen! My strong, beautiful queen!"_

By the end of it, she was no longer listening to Midwife Ottokos or Doctor Dillamond; she was focused only on listening to her husband's voice, gathering strength from his words and his touch. The others in the family watched in silence as the young woman gave one final, hard, long push, a scream escaping her throat, that was quickly drowned out by the strong cries of a newborn.

"Cattery, light the candles." The young maid rushed to do as asked, as her mother and Doctor Dillamond worked on making sure the baby was healthy before giving the infant to the queen. Outside, the people waited, eagerly for the flames that would signal a newly arrived member of their beloved royal family. "Congratulations, Your Majesty." Midwife Ottokos whispered, going to Elphaba and lying the bundle in her arms. Elphaba met gaze, and the older woman nodded, watching the young mother turn her gaze to the baby in her arms.

"Is everything..." She choked out, and Partra knew the fear she was too afraid to express.

"Only time will tell, Your Majesty." The midwife replied, as Elphaba turned her gaze to the baby, who wriggled in her arms. Her whisper was soft, tinged with fear as she spoke next.

"Trism, we... we have..."

"I know, my darling. I know." He whispered, pressing a kiss to her head.

Outside, the people cheered at the sight before them, unaware of the worry filling their monarchs' hearts.

Two flames flickered in the window.


	19. Chapter 19

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

He was beautiful; this little prince that now lay in her arms, hours after having been born.

Like his sister before him, he possessed the same black hair and blue eyes she did, but unlike his sister, there was one thing his mother feared-

"Trism, what if... what if he has it? What if our son-"

"Shh, _hush, Fabala._ Don't worry about that now."

 _"How can we not worry, Tris-"_

"Because he's only a _few hours old_ , Fabala." The king whispered, brushing a kiss to her forehead. Faola was curled against her father's chest, watching her new brother intently with her big, blue eyes. Once she'd been allowed into the room, as soon as she'd been set on the bed, she'd curled into her mother's side, silently studying the baby in her mother's embrace. She didn't say a word; instead, she buried her face in her mother's shoulder, as though she were afraid of him. "What do you think, Faola? Hmm? You're a big sister now." The toddler buried her face in her father's chest, and Trism laughed softly.

"Be grateful she isn't throwing a temper tantrum." The pair looked up as Locasta came back into the room with Partra and Glinda in tow. "Your brother did when you were born." Trism took a deep breath, glancing at his wife.

"Yes, well, given how he turned out, I'm not surprised, Mother." He gently brushed a hand through his daughter's curls, gaze returning to his son.

"Do you have a name picked out? Are we going to find out at the baptisms?" Glinda asked, taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

"We do." Elphaba replied, as Trism kissed the top of her head.

"So... how does this work? Is he a Vinkun Crown Prince, or does that title specifically belong to his sister? And in Fliaan, is he now the heir apparent to the throne, like Shell was?" The couple shared a glance.

Per the new laws passed before Faola's birth, any royal child- male or female, first or last born- could take the throne of Fliaan, and in the Vinkus, the firstborn child would inherit the throne, be them boy or girl, if they chose. As for the titles...

Trism met Glinda's gaze. "In regards to the new law of Fliaan, any royal child may take the throne if they so choose. If Faola refuses the throne and her brother wishes to take it, he may. If he doesn't want it and Faola does,"

"She can take it then." Glinda filled in, and Trism nodded. "But-"

"In Fliaan, all my children are the heir apparent, Glinda." Elphaba whispered, shifting her hold on the baby.

"So Faola is a Grand _Kauri_ -"

"And this little one," Elphaba replied, looking down at her son. "Is a Grand _Katuri_. My brother was not a _Katuri_ because he was the long-awaited heir. A _Katuri_ is- was- a title primarily given to a boy who was not the son of the _Samraat_. My cousin Nikko was a Grand _Katuri_." Glinda remembered Nikko; the boy had been only a couple years older than Sophelia; it had been a shock to the family when it was discovered that Nikko had been involved in the plot to assassinate Yackle.

"So... a Grand Duke, basically."

"A Grand _Prince_ , Glinda." Elphaba corrected. "My sisters and I were higher than any others in Oz because we were the daughters of the _Samraat_ ; a Grand Princess or Grand Prince born to the Empress or Emperor of Fliaan is higher in rank than any other."

"But he's also the son of the Vinkun king." Silence. "And his mother is not only the Fliaanian empress, but Queen of the Vinkus. Where does he stand here? He was born in the Vinkus, as his sister was born in Fliaan. They are of two entirely separate countries-"

"They may have been born in separate countries, but they both belong to the same dynasties. He is a Grand _Katuri_ of Fliaan, and a Crown Prince of the Vinkus."

Blonde eyebrows furrowed. "I don't understand."

"There is a clause in the new Law of Succession that states that the first two children born to the Vinkun royal family with both bear the title Crown Prince or Crown Princess. Until or unless other children are born to the royal couple, both children will be considered the heir apparent- it will be their choice; who wants to take the throne when the time comes."

"So it's fair." Trism nodded.

"We made it that way because for so many years- decades, really- the rule was not fair. It excluded daughters except under the most extreme of circumstances. When we became pregnant with Faola," He met his wife's gaze. "Fabala and I made sure that our daughter would have the right to choose whether she wants to take the throne or not, regardless of any brothers she might have. As the oldest, she has first right to the crown, but she does not necessarily have to chose to take it."

The blonde let the knowledge sink in, watching her goddaughter as the little girl proceeded to put her fingers in her mouth, her blue gaze going back to her baby brother. "So what is his name?" The couple shared a glance. "We have to wait until the baptisms? _Seriously_?"

Elphaba giggled softly. Unlike in Fliaan, where a newborn's full name was revealed at baptism, in the Vinkus, the parents had the right to reveal a newborn's first name if they so desired. However, the rest of the child's name must be withheld until the baptism ceremony. The queen sat up, shifting her son so that she was cradling him in front of her. "Chiashrán."

"Why that name?" Glinda asked, and Elphaba smiled softly, catching Partra's eye. "My grandfather's name was Chiashrán; I remember Papa telling us stories about him, what a wonderful man and how great a leader he was." Tears came to Partra's eyes, and she slowly moved to sit beside Glinda. "So he shall be named Chiashrán." Elphaba whispered, gently bouncing her son as he started to fuss.

"Chisry." Everyone turned to stare at Faola; it was the first thing she'd said in regards to her new baby brother all night. Elphaba and Trism shared a glance.

"Chistery? Is that what she said?" Her husband shrugged, as unsure as she was.

"What's 'Chistery'?" Glinda asked, as confused as the couple. Elphaba shook her head, mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise. "Maybe a nickname?"

"Chiss." The toddler reached out for her brother, being gentle at her father's gentle tugging on her hair; his sign for the little girl to be gentle with her mama all through the pregnancy. The little girl gently poked her brother's hand, and the baby watched her with unfocused blue eyes. "Chiss." Clearly, Faola had decided that her new baby brother's name was too difficult, and so had settled for something easier to say. Her parents shared a glance, just happy that their oldest was accepting her brother instead of shunning him.

Trism chuckled softly, pulling the little girl back into his lap and pressing a kiss to her black curls. "Chiss it is."


	20. Chapter 20

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

A week after the birth, their baby boy was baptized- His Imperial Highness, Crown Prince and Heir Presumptive of the Vinkus, Chiashrán Shell Traper Tigelaar- to the delight of the Vinkun people, who were overjoyed that their king and queen had born a healthy baby boy.

Healthy.

It was something Elphaba _hoped_ her son was. The young parents would not know the whether the baby suffered from the disease until about his first birthday, or whenever symptoms began appearing; until then, they were exceedingly protective and careful with the little prince.

 _"If- and only if- we have a child, we'll be careful. We'll watch and if anything looks like the disease your brother carried, we'll do our best to contain it. The secret died with your brother."_

She took a deep breath, her husband's words fading with the soft sound of suckling, and she returned her gaze to her son, who nursed contentedly at her breast. The young family had returned to Colwen Grounds at the end of the week, and Elphaba now sat in the rocking chair in the nursery; they had decided, that since Faola and her brother were only eleven months apart, it would be easier for them to share the nursery. Faola slept in a crib, and her brother in the bassinet that she had slept in after she was born.

"My beautiful baby boy... I can only hope you are not forced to suffer from the disease I carry." She swallowed thickly, gently stroking his cheek, never taking her eyes off him. "I curse what it is to be a woman."

"Why do you say that, Fabala?" She looked up, to find her husband leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. Faola was napping in her crib, and after checking on her, the king made his way to his wife, kneeling down beside her. "Now, tell me," He whispered, reaching out and taking her hand in his. "Why you think that you curse what it is to be a woman?" Her gaze moved to the baby suckling at her milk, and he understood. "Ah. Fabala," She slowly met his gaze. "You are not a curse, you are human. This disease, if he does have it, is not because you're cursed, it's because of genetics. It would be the same if you were born with green skin."

"If our son is stricken with it, Tris, it will still be my fault, because _I_ carry it." She replied, meeting his gaze, which was then broken when the baby whimpered, having finished nursing. After gently rubbing his back, she rose to stand, as her husband held the rocker steady. Once both of their babes were napping contentedly, the two left the nursery, returning to their bedroom.

"Fabala... _Fabala!_ " He grabbed her arm before she stepped into the Cerulean Room, causing her to turn back. "Talk to me. There has to be more to it than just the disease. Sweetheart, talk to me, please, I beg you." A moment passed, before she took his hand, pulling him into the room and softly shutting the door. Just for a few minutes, she leaned against it, taking a deep breath.

"It's not just the baby, Tris. I... I love our baby boy, I just..." She swallowed thickly. "it feel like I have forgotten... what it's like to be happy... I'm anxious... exhausted... even when I get sleep..."

He joined her, gently resting his hands on her shoulders. "Depression?" He asked softly, and after a moment, she nodded.

"I think so." Slowly, she turned to face him. "Does... does that make me a bad mother? I... I did not feel this... horrible after Faola was born-"

"Sweetheart, every woman suffers from depression after the birth of a child. My mother did, I'm sure your mother did. It's natural. That doesn't mean you're a bad mother, it simply means that you're human." She curled into his arms, tucking her head underneath his chin. He brushed a kiss to her head. "Showing that you're human can be a beautiful thing, my love."

* * *

She lay curled in Trism's arms; after their talk in the Cerulean Room, he led her to their bed, toeing off his shoes and stretching out, pulling her down with him. She snuggled as close as she possibly could, settling on his chest, one hand coming up to rest against his heart. He pressed a firm kiss to her head before taking her hand. When he'd informed her that a nap was in order, she'd protested, but he informed her that both their children were napping, the palace was quiet, and she was not needed at Parliament; they had also just returned from the Fliaanian baptism of their son, so therefore they could take a little time and catch up on their rest.

Sleep was slow to come for her though; she kept wishing her family could have been there, at the baptisms, during her labor... her husband's even breathing soon alerted her that he had given in to the exhaustion that had caught up with them both in the last week or so, and she briefly lifted her head. He kept her hand tucked within his, against his heart.

 _"Do we call you Mama now? Or can we still call you Fabala?"_

She slowly lifted her head, turning to find someone standing beside her side of the bed. Her breath caught, and she slowly pulled away from her husband, getting up. "Nessa?"

But instead of responding, the girl turned and dashed from the room; her sister followed, being careful not to wake her husband. She returned to the nursery, to find her family surrounding the bassinet. _"She's here, Papa. She was sleeping with her_ husband _."_ Nessa teased, but Frexpar simply glanced up, before returning his gaze to the baby boy sleeping soundly amid the blankets.

 _"Papa?"_

 _"He's beautiful, Fabala. Just like you were when you were born."_ Frexpar reached down, brushing a finger gently against the baby's cheek.

 _"I_ told _you that he was beautiful."_ Melena said, sliding her arm through her husband's. _"But none of you listen to me."_

 _"He's so tiny, Fabala."_ Sophelia spoke up, reaching out to brush a finger through the baby's black hair. Sophelia had always loved children, but not to the extent that Elphaba had.

"Sixteen hours of labor and ten pounds, eight ounces." She whispered, thinking back to the night he was born. "He was _not_ tiny, Elia." Her sister winced, and Melena chuckled. "I guess I should be grateful; his birth only took sixteen hours, whereas his sister's took twenty." She nodded towards the crib where her daughter lay sleeping.

 _"He's still beautiful."_ Elia replied, and the young empress met her older sister's eye.

"Thank you." She sniffled, taking a deep breath, attempting to stop the tears from dripping down her cheeks. As much as her family had been on her mind in the last few months, seeing them here, watching over her children, her son, really shouldn't have surprised her. But it did.

 _"Is he... does he have..."_

" _I don't know_." Elphaba replied slowly with a shake of her head. "There's a good possibility he does, but..." She reached up, brushing a tear off her cheek. "Mama, when did you know? About... about Shell?" The ten-year-old curled into Nessa's side, and Melena sighed, studying her son before turning back to her daughter.

 _"Where the doctor severed us; it began to bruise, a few hours after birth. Not bruise... blacken. That was the first sign that something was wrong, that your brother was affected."_ Elphaba turned her gaze to her own son.

"He was fine." She whispered. "There has been nothing-"

 _"Maybe he is not afflicted."_ Raina cut in, but Elphaba shook her head.

"He is afflicted, I know he is. And it's my fault; I gave it to him."

 _"You cannot stop what's predetermined, Fabala. That does not mean it's your fault. If he is afflicted, by his first birthday, you will know."_ Frexpar replied, watching as he only surviving child knelt beside the bassinet, reaching out to stroke her son's head.

"Isn't it, Papa? Mama gave it to each of us, but only Shell suffered. We just carried it. My daughter carries it and my son shall suffer from it." She swallowed. "And it's said that common marriages destroy royal houses." She shook her head and her sisters shared glances. "Blood destroys royal houses. Because it's tainted. It ruined yours." She met parents' gazes. "And it will ruin mine."

 _"Fabala, you cannot think that way. He will be fine; regardless of whether he suffers from the disease or not."_ Nessa stated, but Elia shook her head, silencing her baby sister.

 _"Nessa, hush."_ The oldest _Kauri_ moved to her sister's side. _"Depression."_ The two sisters locked eyes; Elia knew, she had suffered from depression the last few weeks before the massacre; she recognized the signs in her little sister. _"Oh, Fabala-"_

"If it were not tied to my son, I..." Her sister pulled her into her arms, pressing a kiss to her head.

 _"Shh, hush Fabala, it'll be okay."_

Eventually, the empress pulled away, returning to the side of the bassinet. "I wish I could believe you, Elia, but until the signs appear... I fear I may go crazy."

"Fabala?" She turned, to find her husband in the nursery doorway. "Darling, come back to bed. He's fine. He will still be here when you wake up." After a moment, she pulled away from the bassinet, joining her husband before turning back.


	21. Chapter 21

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"He's beautiful, Your Majesty."

Elphaba smiled softly, turning her gaze to the baby in her arms. Two months had passed since his birth; Faola had celebrated her first birthday- a celebration that had been very quiet, private affair. Avaric, Zor and his new wife, Mayre- whom everyone called Trot- were in attendance as well; Avaric, insisting that as her godfather, it was his job to spoil the little princess, had brought a beautiful little doll for her.

At eight months, the emerald diamonds had been tattooed on either side of her eyes; unlike some royal children, who had fussed and cried during the procedure, the little girl had remained silent, too focused on her grandmother, who she could see over her mother's shoulder. Melena had spent the time cooing and nickering at the toddler, just as she had done for each of her children when their diamonds had been added.

She pressed a kiss to her son's forehead, before laying the infant in the bassinet and gently covering him before slipping out of the nursery. She silently beckoned the young Governor to follow her; they returned to the master, slipping through and into the Cerulean Room. Zor had turned his head upon entering the bedroom; the young man had a courtesy about him that many leaders and rulers lacked now. Though he and Elphaba had gotten to become good friends, he saw it improper to look upon the private bedroom of a young woman- especially a ruler of such status as the young empress.

"Elphaba," The young woman looked up as Cattery brought tea; Faola rushed in after the maid, climbing into her mother's lap. The little girl was often left in the care of Miss Greyling, her governess, but on occasions when the young woman could not watch over the little girl- such as now, when she was visiting her sister in the south- Cattery often looked after the child. "I was wondering if I could ask your advice."

"In regards to what, Zor?" She asked; lavender hit her nose, and she struggled to hide the smile tugging at her lips. She had yet to tell Trism of the secret she carried, though she had told Glinda, who had simply shaken her head, "You might just get your thirty children after all, Fabala."

"It's Trot." He replied, studying his coffee absentmindedly. "Something's wrong. She... she's being exceedingly secretive and... well, I recently noticed a couple weeks ago that her appetites have changed."

"Changed how?"

"She... she's developed a taste for Vinkun custard." The empress's dark eyes shifted from watching her daughter to the young Governor. A strained laugh escaped her throat. She grabbed a biscuit and a butter knife, slipping it into the pot of jam and spreading a thin layer. But before she could say anything, footsteps could be heard on the stairs; Trism entered, kneeling to scoop Faola into his arms as the little girl climbed off her mother's lap and rushed to him.

"There's my darling." He kissed the child quickly before going to his wife. "Mother said she will send word when she gets back to Kiamo Ko." He said, kissing her forehead.

"Personally, I never cared for Vinkun custard, but then again, I don't like cranberries. I'd rather have pinlobble jam." She replied, taking a bite of her biscuit. Trism stopped, his gaze going to the biscuit his wife had bitten into.

"Pinlobble jam and... lavender tea... you only have those two things together when you're-" The young king paled, and Zor rushed to take the little princess as her father sank into the chair beside his wife. "Fabala, _again_? Our son is barely two months old!" The young empress shrugged, turning to the governor.

"Cravings are a sign of pregnancy, Zor." She whispered, sucking the jam off her finger. "And do not glare at me like that, my king. If you could control your appetites, we wouldn't be in this position again."

Trism closed his eyes, resting his head in his hand with a sigh. "My appetites are _fine_ , Fabala. If you would learn to control _yours_ -"

"So... this... custard she's eating... it's a craving..." Elphaba nodded, glancing at her husband. The young man appeared dumbstruck. "How... how long do they last?"

"Nine months." Trism answered, resting his chin on his hand. "And they come with a whole _host_ of other _delightful_ symptoms. Certain smells will make her sick; she will be particular in regards to _everything_ now; her desires will be out of control, and if you can survive the mood swings, well, those are nothing compared to childbirth. Be prepared; she's going to become a completely different woman by the end of this." He jumped when his wife swatted his arm. "Oh you know it's true, Fabala, don't look at me in that tone of voice."

"So... Chiss and this new baby..." The young Governor asked, referring to the infant sound asleep in the nursery.

"Will be eleven months apart." Elphaba replied, sipping her tea. "This little one shall be born in June."

"June, August, October." Trism muttered, burying his face in his hands. "If we keep trying, we'll have a child born in every _month_." Zor chuckled, tickling the little girl under her chin. Faola had become quite taken with the governor, and he found himself drawn to the little princess with the black curls and big blue eyes. He hoped his child held as much innocence as she did.

"Well you can relax, Tris. I'll give up on thirty. I'll settle for eight."

The king turned wide blue eyes to his wife, before turning to the young man holding his daughter. He stood, intending on checking on their son. "Eight. I hold _you_ responsible for putting the idea into her head." Then, without another word, the young king strode out of the room.


	22. Chapter 22

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 **A/N: So she's got a little timeline to help keep the kids straight- Faola was born in 1929 and Chiss in 1930. Which means this baby will be born in 1931.** **\- Licia**

 _1931_

Zor had made it a point to right his father's wrongs; he took time to scour the papers his father had left for any mention of the Fliaanian crown jewels. Once Elphaba had informed him that the ring he'd found had been her mother's engagement ring, it made his search all that more poignant. If he could bring about some peace to the young empress that had become a good friend, then maybe he could find it in himself to forgive his father- for not only destroying Elphaba's family, but also his own, as Zor's mother had died from a fall down the stairs when the young governor was only ten- something Zor to this day still found highly suspicious.

This particular February morning dawned bright and cold. Elphaba, unable to sleep, slipped out of her husband's arms and went to check on the children. Upon realizing that both were still sound asleep, she returned to their bedroom, stopping to study herself in the mirror. Her belly was already showing, and she was only five months into her pregnancy-

 _Then again, Midwife Ottokos did say that it was normal for the pregnancy to show sooner if you have had children before, so I guess this must be normal._ She sighed, gently stroking the growing swell. _Twenty-three weeks. Five months going into six._ "It doesn't seem real."

"What doesn't seem real, my love?" She relaxed as Trism's arms slid sleepily around her body, and he nuzzled her neck. It was evident that he wasn't fully awake yet, but waking to the sight of her studying her growing belly in the mirror, well, it was too good an opportunity to pass up.

"That I'm already five months along." She replied, reaching up to stroke her fingers through his hair. "It seems almost as though this pregnancy is going by faster than my other ones did."

"Perhaps you're body is just used to it by now." He suggested, pressing a kiss to her cheek before pulling away and proceeding to get dressed.

"Or perhaps there's more than one little prince or princess in there." She replied, continuing to stroke her belly. Her husband froze mid-dressing, before slowly turning to her.

"That's not funny, Fabala."

"I wasn't saying it to be funny."

 _"Twins?"_ He choked out, and she raised an eyebrow before slowly nodding in agreement.

"You're probably right, darling. I'm probably just so used to pregnancy that my body is going through the changes without my noticing."

* * *

"Trot and I were able to find a few mentions of the crown jewels, but not many. If my father took the jewels, he hid them exceedingly well."

Zor and Trot had come to visit the royal family at Colwen Grounds; Trot, like Elphaba, was five months along, for both couples had conceived around the same time, and would be due relatively close to each other as well. But unlike Elphaba, who was very evidently showing, Trot had barely begun to show. The two couples were in the Cerulean Room, visiting over tea and coffee; a fire roared in the fireplace, as the snow fell in sheets outside. The young first lady held the seven-month-old prince in her arms; she was enthralled by his beautiful blue eyes and black hair.

"He looks so much like the king," She whispered as the baby wrapped his pudgy hand around her finger. Elphaba chuckled, shifting Faola on her lap. The royal family had official portraits done the week before, and Faola, used to being the subject of countless photographs taken by her parents- for Elphaba's love of photography had never gone away- had enjoyed being in front of the camera, so much so that Elphaba had determined that her oldest child was going to be similar to her beloved Aunt Nessarose- the Unnamed God bless her soul- who had enjoyed hamming it up for the camera as a child.

But the little girl had also clung tightly to her mother during the family portraits- rarely leaving Elphaba's side and often refusing to be parted from her mother, even if it meant standing with her father. It was evident that Faola was protective of her mother; more so now than when Elphaba had been pregnant with her brother. But then again, even at a year and five months, the little princess seemed to understand the gravity of her role as the big sister, and took it exceedingly seriously.

"Mama! Snow!"

Elphaba turned at her daughter's exclamation; her daughter had always had a fascination with snow, from the time she was two months old. Trot chuckled, sipping her tea.

"I know, Faola, it's lovely isn't it?" Without a word, the girl slid off her mother's lap and rushed to the balcony doors. With a nod, Elphaba stood, scooping her daughter up before the child could open the doors and let the cold in. "There, you can see it better." She settled the child on her hip, being careful of her belly.

"Play. Please?"

 _"Me next! Me next!"_

 _"You can all go together, okay?"_

 _"On one sled, Papa?"_

 _"On one sled. Now, hang on tightly, girls. You ready?"_

 _The sled they were on soared down the snow mountain they had built in the courtyard; the wind chapped their noses and reddened their cheeks. As the sled reached the bottom it tipped, sending the three oldest princesses into the fluffy snow as it came to a stop. Nessa, who had been building a snowman with Shell quickly packed a bunch of snow into a ball, throwing it at her sisters; it hit Elphaba square in the face as the girl stood. In a matter of minutes, a snowball fight had begun, and the five children rushed through the powdery whiteness, laughing and shrieking in delight, no longer royal children- for a few hours anyway._

"Not today, my darling." She replied as the memory faded. "Perhaps tomorrow, when the storm has stopped."

The child sighed as her mother kissed her forehead. "Okay."


	23. Chapter 23

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"How far along are you, Fabala?"

She looked up from the photographs she and Glinda had been looking through for the photo album she'd been working on. "Thirty-eight weeks. Why?"

"That's... eight months, right?"

"Eight months and two weeks. Where are you going with this?"

The blonde shrugged. "You just... look a lot bigger than you did when you were pregnant with either Faola or Chiss." She replied, as the little girl in question rushed into her mother's boudoir and climbed onto her godmother's lap. The baby, now ten months old, was just starting to walk without assistance, though he liked to hold onto his father's hands, and often delighted in the comfort of his father's presence. Currently though, he was sitting on his father's lap, listening as Trism read a story to him. The baby's bright blue eyes absorbed every picture, and he squealed when he saw pictures of things he recognized, like a dog.

Elphaba shrugged, reaching down to caress her belly. She had dropped the week previous, and while it was easier for her to breathe, the constant pressure on her bladder was getting to be an annoyance. "I still have two weeks to go, Glinda."

"Right." The two women returned to looking through the pictures, before the blonde asked, "Have you thought of a name?"

Elphaba nodded. "Several."

"Really? Boy or girl?"

"Both. Depending on whether I give birth to a prince or a princess, that will kind of determine which name we use."

"Oh." They settled back into silence, before, "I always liked Akleimomi. It means 'pearl' in Gillikin."

"It's very pretty, Glinda. Maybe you can use it for your daughter." The blonde paled.

"Oh... no... I... I don't know that I would be a very good mother, Fabala..." Elphaba met her cousin's gaze before turning to stare out the window; the late afternoon May sunshine was casting shadows on the floor; and Elphaba found herself becoming lost in thought.

"Neither did I, Glinda. I still don't know that I'm going to be a good mother." She hissed softly, resting a hand against her belly.

"Fabala?" Trism's head snapped up at Glinda's voice. Faola slipped off her godmother's lap, joining her father and brother on the sofa. The king watched as his wife slowly released a breath.

"It's okay, it's just-" She stopped, the familiar feeling of something trickling down her legs causing her pause. "Tris..." She reached for her husband; after making sure Faola would watch her little brother, he rushed to his wife. "Tris... it's too soon." She choked on a sob. "I have two weeks left... I shouldn't be going into labor _now_..."

He helped her to her feet, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Shh. Hush, Fabala. Come on, let's get you settled. Glinda, have Cattery fetch Doctor Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos." The blonde nodded, biting her lip as the king helped his wife out of the boudoir and into their bedroom.

* * *

Doctor Dillamond looked up from the paperwork he was filling out to see Cattery standing in the doorway. As the royal physician, it was his job to look after the health of those at court, but specifically the royal family. Midwife Ottokos was with a young lady-in-waiting and her husband, who had been trying to conceive and so far had no luck.

"Ah, Cattery, what can I do for you?"

"His Majesty sent me, Doctor. Wanted me to fetch both you and my mother."

"What is going on?" Dillamond turned as Midwife Ottokos joined them, her appointment with the young couple finished.

"I was sent to fetch you, mother. Her Majesty is... her time has started."

"Are you _sure_ , my child?" The older woman asked, skeptical. "She has two weeks left-"

"Her waters have ruptured, mother."

The two medical professionals shared a glance, before rushing to get what they needed and following her back to the waiting car.

* * *

 _"Where is Cattery? She should have been back by now!"_

A groan escaped the young woman's throat, and she struggled to sit up; having laid down after returning to their bedroom, Elphaba soon realized that lying down only made the contractions worse. Trism sat behind her, hands resting on either side of her belly. She reached up, wrapping an arm around his neck, her other hand resting over one of his.

"She's probably on her way back, Fabala. She _did_ have to go all the way to court to fetch them." Glinda replied, as Locasta gently wrung out the cloth and dabbed at her daughter-in-law's forehead. She and Partra had come to spend the last few weeks with Elphaba and Trism, to spend time with their grandchildren and great-grandchildren, respectfully, and the little ones' parents before the new baby came. Partra was currently still in the Boudoir, keeping Faola and Chiss entertained so they wouldn't worry about their mother. "Maybe you should think about moving the court to Colwen Grounds so it will be easier for them to be on hand, if you two are going to keep having babies like this."

Elphaba let a groan escape through her clenched teeth, digging her nails into Trism's hand. "Not funny, Glinda." Trism replied.

"I don't want those... _pompous... arrogant... pretentious... bastards and their... over-decorated... two-faced... backstabbing whores... anywhere near my children..._ "

"Elphaba Frexparia! Language!"

"Pompous and arrogant are one in the same, Fabala, you're not doing yourself any favors." Trism whispered as Glinda scolded the laboring queen.

 _"Shut up, Trism!"_ She ground out, closing her eyes and struggling to get her breathing under control, but it was difficult, so, so difficult, because there was so much pressure... too much, far, far too much. "Tris... help... help me up..." He glanced at his mother. "Help me out of the bed... I need to... to stand..."

Without a word, her husband did as told, keeping an arm tight around her waist. She groaned, digging her nails into his hand. "Easy, sweetheart. Once Cattery returns-" She shook her head.

 _"I... can't... wait..."_

"Yes you can, Fabala. They'll be here soon-"

Elphaba shook her head again, harder this time at her cousin's reply. "No, Glinda... you don't... _understand_..." She felt her knees give out; her husband caught her, so that she was supported in a squatting position. "This baby's... coming... _now_..."


	24. Chapter 24

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The young empress's scream greeted Cattery, her mother and Doctor Dillamond as they rushed into the palace and up the stairs. The rest of the household were startled, to say the least, but knew to leave the young mother to the care of the doctor and midwife. They burst into the room to find Elphaba in only her shift, being supported by Trism and Locasta.

 _"It's about time! This baby is... coming..."_ Elphaba choked out, as both quickly got everything set up and helped the king and dowager move her to the birth stool. Once she was seated, Cattery and Partra- who'd slipped back into the room with the children in tow and asked Glinda to look after them while she helped her granddaughter- held her legs.

Midwife Ottokos shared a glance with Dillamond after quickly examining the young mother. "The babe's head is out completely, Your Majesty."

"I... _told you_..." Elphaba groaned, pushing. Partra and Locasta shared a glance; an entire conversation passing between the two women. Both knew what it was like to go through a quick birth; the birth of Partra's fifth child had been fast, and Trism's birth had been fairly fast, if Locasta were honest with herself. It wasn't uncommon for a woman who had had children before to go through a fast childbirth with the second or third.

The young queen let out a groan that morphed into a scream, and Partra and Locasta watched in silence as the baby slid into the midwife's arms after only a couple strong pushes. The infant's strong cries met everyone's ears, but there was no time to rejoice over the baby's arrival, as Elphaba dug her nails into her husband's hand. _"Trism..."_

He turned to her. "What is it, my love?"

She looked up at him, fear in her eyes. "Something... something's _wrong._.." The midwife nodded to Doctor Dillamond as she focused on getting the baby in her arms clean. Without a word, the good doctor knelt down before the empress, checking her quickly. But before he could say anything, Elphaba bore down. _"Oh... I have to push..."_

"Fabala, sweetheart, you just-"

Partra and Locasta exchanged another glance. While it had never happened to either of them, it wasn't uncommon or unheard of; the only time a woman felt like she had to bear down a second time, well, it could only mean one thing-

 _"Push, Your Majesty! Harder, that's it, keep going!"_

The young empress did as told, letting out a scream before collapsing back against her husband's chest. Trism shook his head, utterly confused; his wife looked up at him, gasping for air. "Fabala, you've already given birth to our baby-" She shook her head, swallowing thickly.

 _"I can't... describe it... Tris... I just..."_ He helped her sit up. _"I know I need... I need to push..."_

She continued to push; the pressure she'd experienced earlier coming back again, stronger this time. It was so great, she didn't bother listening to Doctor Dillamond or anyone else; she could only focus on the overwhelming pressure within her womb. Several minutes passed, minutes that seemed like hours, and slowly, she felt the stretching beginning again, as another little head began to crown between her legs. _"Mmm... Grandmama... Mama... it's coming..."_

"Will _someone please_ tell me what's _going on_?" But Locasta waved at her son to be silent. Elphaba didn't need to be distracted by questions; she knew what to do, but still, useless questions at a time like this were kind of pointless. A moment passed, before Partra took pity on her grandson-in-law, and she chuckled softly.

"Trism," The young father turned to her, now completely out of the loop on what his wife was talking about. "There were two."

 _"Mmm... please, Doctor, get it out..."_

"Keep pushing, Your Majesty." Dillamond told her, his deep voice gentle. "The head is almost out. Just keep pushing, that's it!"

With all the chaos, it was no wonder at the look of confusion on the young father's face, and after a moment, he choked out, "Two _what_?"

"Two babies, my son." Locasta cut in, and the king turned to her.

"I... I'm sorry, _what?_ " His mother smiled softly at him, shaking her head. The last time she had seen her son this clueless, he'd been eight, and had failed to grasp the idea that trains didn't need cigars to smoke like they did. That same confusion filled his blue eyes now, though the reason behind it was much more serious- seeing as it would affect him and Elphaba for the rest of their lives. After a moment, Locasta reached up to cradle his chin in her hand.

"Trism, my darling boy, our beloved Fabala is having-"

But she was drowned out by her daughter-in-law's scream as she bore down hard, before sitting up straighter and pushing again, harder this time. Her legs began to shake, and she could feel herself stretching as the body continued to come. A moment passed; something was caught, another push and the shoulder was free, followed quickly by the other one.

"Again, Your Majesty, you're almost done. _Push_!"

Elphaba did as Dillamond told her to; she let out a cry, as she felt the hips begin to slide out of her. One more good, strong push, and suddenly, the second baby arrived with a burst of fluid. Another healthy scream filled the air, and she collapsed back in her husband's arms, resting her head on his shoulder, looking up at him as she reached up to tenderly caress his cheek. "... twins, my darling husband." She breathed, catching her breath as he met her gaze, blue eyes filled with surprise. "I have..." She swallowed thickly, laughing softly. "... given birth to twins..."


	25. Chapter 25

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 **A/N: Yes, you read that last chapter right. What do you think? Two daughters? Two sons? Or one of each?- Licia**

 _Twins._

His beautiful wife, his darling Fabala, had just given birth to _twins_.

 _Two_ babies.

Two babies who had grown within her womb at the same time and neither of them had known.

He stood out on the balcony of his wife's boudoir, trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was now the father of twins. The cool evening air washed over him, but it did nothing to calm the racing of his heart. A quick check of the calendar before he'd slipped outside made this news all the more shocking- May twenty-third, nineteen-thirty-one.

He laughed softly.

 _Gemini, sign of the twins._

Oh, the irony.

"Trism?"

He turned, to find Glinda standing behind him. "How is she?"

"She's fine."

He nodded. "And... the babies?"

"They're fine. They want to meet their daddy."

"I'll be in in a minute. I just... I just needed some air."

She moved closer, laying a hand on his shoulder. "She didn't know, Trism. She was just as in the dark as you. She only realized she was having twins when she needed to push again."

"I know, Glinda. I just... it..."

"Threw you for a loop?" He nodded. "I think it threw her, too."

"Tell her that I'll be there in a minute."

"I will." She whispered, pulling away and returning to go inside.

"Glinda?" The blonde stopped, turning back. "Do you think we can do this? Parent twins?"

"Considering what you and Fabala went through when you first got married, you can get through anything. Raising twins will be a piece of cake for you, Trism."

* * *

He took a deep breath, slipping out of the boudoir and shutting the door softly behind him. "There you are. We were wondering where you'd gone." Partra was sitting beside Elphaba, talking softly to her. Locasta went to her son, taking his face in her hands.

"I just... I needed a few minutes alone, I needed air." She chuckled softly.

"Overwhelming?"

"You have _no idea_ , mother."

"I think I do." She whispered. "You and your brother were practically twins, you were so close in age."

He sighed, smiling softly. "Can I see-"

She nodded, slipping her arm through his and leading him to the bed. Everything had been cleaned up; her long black hair was falling out of the messy braid she'd put it in when she'd gotten up that morning, and she was obviously exhausted, but she still looked radiant; as radiant as she had after Faola'd been born. Slowly, his wife lifted her head, removing her gaze from the little bundle in her arms. Cattery held the other baby, and made her way towards the couple once Trism was seated beside his wife. Silently, the maid laid the second baby in his arms, and he caught the small smile on her face. "You have two beautiful little princesses, Your Majesty." She whispered, stepping back.

" _Princesses_?" He breathed, and the maid nodded. He turned to glance at his wife, who smiled softly at him. She nudged him gently with her shoulder.

"I know it's against Fliaanian tradition to reveal a baby's name before the baptism, but, I figure, given the... _surprise_ circumstances, we can make an exception and break that rule for once." He chuckled, nodding silently.

"So what are their names?" Glinda asked, shifting Chiss on her hip; Faola hid behind the blonde, uncertain of the two tiny humans in her parents' arms. Elphaba glanced at her husband before nodding to the baby in his arms.

"Tris is holding Ahghavni, and I've got Fiarchra. They were the only two names we could agree on, but we couldn't agree on which one to use."

"Now you get to use both." Glinda replied, setting the baby on the bed before lifting her goddaughter up and setting her beside her brother. "You want to meet your baby sisters?" The children looked up at her.

After a moment, Faola turned to her parents, and the look on her face was clear, _You did this on purpose_. She'd had no issue sharing her parents with her brother, or even the baby everyone thought Elphaba was pregnant with, but _two_? She wasn't sharing her parents with two babies. She would throw every temper tantrum in the book, just so they knew how unfair this was.

Tears began to prick her eyes, and she whimpered-

"Faol _á_ na Sophelie Dorathea Rose do not even _think_ of it."

The year and half-old little girl pouted, upset that her mother had caught onto her plan. Without a word, she wrapped her arms around Chiss, holding her brother to her, not wanting him to become sucked into what the adults were sucked into- fawning and cooing over the new babies.

"I thought she'd be happy, she has two new little sisters to look after." Glinda said, but Partra chuckled softly.

"Glinda, she's jealous. She doesn't like having to share her parents with anyone but her brother, and having to share them with two babies now- it's a normal reaction for a little girl. She'll grow out of it."

* * *

"I'm so used to nursing one, that nursing two is a bit of a challenge."

 _"You're doing fine, Fabala."_

"Twins... I never thought..." She stopped, gently adjusting her hold on the infants; settled in the rocking chair in the nursery, she cradled both little girls, watching them nurse contentedly at her breasts, their bright blue eyes unfocused, but watching her.

 _"My younger brother and sister were twins."_ Frexpar said, and Elphaba looked up at her father.

"Aunt Taama and Uncle Orin?" She asked, lifting her head from the back of the rocking chair. "I didn't know-"

 _"No one ever asked."_ His daughter nodded, returning her gaze to her daughters.

"I think my little ones might be identical."

"Identical, are you sure?" She looked up, to find her husband making his way towards her. He knelt beside her, watching their daughters for several minutes. "What makes you say that?" She shrugged.

"Twins run in my family- Papa's younger brother and sister were fraternal. And when the placenta was delivered, it was one, not two."

"Identical twins usually share the placenta while in the womb." He whispered, gently brushing a finger over one of his daughter's heads. "They've got blue eyes."

"Most babies born have blue eyes, Trism, but none as blue as yours."

A soft chuckle escaped his throat, and he sighed. "I would like at least _one_ of our children to bear your eyes, not mine."

She wrinkled her nose. "See, I _like_ that our babies have your eyes. I love your eyes."


	26. Chapter 26

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Partra had known that her second and third children were twins; there had never been any form of surprise during labor, like there was with her granddaughter. But as she watched her granddaughter, now a mother of four, she knew that every woman was different when it came to pregnancy and childbirth, just as every mother was different. Elphaba was doing things Partra would have never considered when she was raising her children, but then again, she had to concede that her granddaughter was a young woman of the modern age, with contemporary ideas and views.

A moment passed, before the young empress pressed a hand to her heart; quickly, she joined her. "Fabala?"

"I'm okay, Grandmama, I just..." She stopped, her gaze drifting to something beyond the present, back in the past, nearly fourteen years gone now. "Occasionally, it hurts. But only occasionally, when my thoughts inadvertently stray to him."

Partra nodded; knowing that she was speaking of Trism's older brother, the same young man who had caused her memory loss and gotten her out of the slaughter that was the basement that night in nineteen-eighteen. But it was evident that her soul had healed- slowly- since her marriage to Trism, just as his had. Though rare, exceedingly rare, there were cases of a person losing their soulmate and then gaining a new one, and the soul healing itself through that new love.

A 'soul change', if she remembered correctly.

"Yes, well, are you ready?" A moment passed, before Elphaba nodded; the baptism of her twin girls was today- the Fliaanian baptism anyway.

* * *

Four days after the baptism in Fliaan, the family stood as the priest anointed both little girls in the church in the Vinkus. The people of both Fliaan and the Vinkus had rejoiced when it was revealed the young couple had two daughters; in the Vinkus, twins were seen as a good omen, meaning that prosperity and wealth would befall the country and her people. Though the country was civilized, many of the beliefs were still very much pagan.

"... Her Imperial Highness, Princess Ahghavni Oziandra Kumbria Partra Tigelaar and Her Imperial Highness Fiarchra Locastei Nessa Galinda Tigelaar..."

The couple shared a glance as Faola leaned against her father's legs; she was holding tight to her little brother, who stood beside her. This being their first big important function, both children wanted to prove they could stick it out, but it was getting hard. They were getting tired, and they had been standing with their parents for so very, very long...

Finally the ceremony finished, and after allowing the people to see the twin girls, the family returned to Kiamo Ko. Both children fell asleep on the car ride back, and after returning to the palace, Trism put them both down for a nap while Elphaba joined the others in the parlor. Locasta cradled one of the girls, while Elphaba held the other- Havni and Fechín, as the girls were lovingly nicknamed by their parents- and Partra looked on.

"You certainly make beautiful children," Elphaba blushed. "Your daughters will have suitors galore when they reach the appropriate age, as you and Nessa should have, as your older sisters did." Patra sighed. "There are days when I wake up and forget that they're gone."

"Thirteen years." Locasta whispered, taking her granddaughter's hand.

"This _isn't fair._ They should be here." Elphaba whispered, turning her gaze to the baby in her arms. "They... they should be having children of their own and... and spoiling their nephew and nieces and..." She sniffled. "It's why I gave them... those names... Sophelie, Oziandra... so maybe _they can still be here..._ " Silently, Partra joined her granddaughter on the sofa, pulling the young mother close.

"They are here, darling. They are always here, all of them. Every single one of them." She whispered, pressing a kiss to the young queen's hair.

Overall, thirty members of the royal family and their household had lost their lives in the nineteen-eighteen Fliaanian revolution- not just Elphaba's immediate family and their servants, but two of her aunts, an uncle, several cousins and various former members of the Thropp household who had not been allowed to go to the House of Special Purpose with the family; Frexpar's brother and sister- the very twins that evidently ran in the family- had both been slaughtered, not long after the family was put under house arrest. And yet, still other members of the Thropp family- cousins, aunts, uncles- had managed to escape, fleeing to Ev or the Vinkus or even as far away as Gillikin like Glinda and her parents had.

The baby in Locasta's arms began to fuss, and after a moment, Elphaba handed the little girl she was holding to Partra before getting up. "I'll be right back, I just need to change out of this. I can't nurse with a court dress on." She slipped out of the room and up the stairs. Once she was gone, Partra turned to Locasta.

"I don't know that she'll ever get over it."

"It may be twenty years before she even begins to accept it." Locasta added, turning to the baby girl in her arms. "Shh, hush Havni, hush. Mama will be right back, she just needed to change into something more comfortable."

* * *

Trism looked up as his wife entered the bedroom; he hung the military coat up, and then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt. Without a word, his wife turned, lifting her hair off her back.

"Help me out of this, darling." Silently, he did, his fingers brushing gently over the swell of her belly; this being her third pregnancy, her uterus had gone down quicker than with the first one; only a slight swell remained. She smiled softly at him, as she grabbed a dress out of the clothes press and slipped into it. "Thank you, love." She kissed him quickly, before going to the door.

"I still can't believe you were pregnant with twins and we never realized it." She stopped, turning back to him. "The only thing I can think of is that one was hiding behind the other, and no one caught it."

"Would you change it? If we had to do it over? Would you rather I had only carried one baby instead of two?"

He shook his head. "Now that I've had time to absorb the fact that I'm the father of twin girls- not a chance."

She grinned. "Neither would I."


	27. Chapter 27

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Chiss turned a year in August; by then, the girls were four months old, and it was very evident that they were identical. Faola had also finally gotten over her hurt at being saddled with two little sisters instead of one- slowly, but she'd gotten over it.

"They're beautiful, Elphaba. But you didn't know you were carrying two?"

The young empress shook her head, watching as Trot cradled Havni in her arms. She'd gone into labor a couple weeks after Elphaba had had the girls, and after twenty-two hours of labor, had finally given birth to a baby boy the couple had named Tippertarius, but who everyone called Tip. "It was a complete surprise to both Tris and I. I didn't know I was carrying twins until I was in labor. I gave birth the first time and then," She shrugged. "I felt this... overwhelming urge to push again and... eventually the second baby was born. I think discovering that we now had twin girls gave Tris a heart attack."

"Not quite, but it was close." The two women looked up as Trism entered with Zor; the two rulers had been downstairs in the study, working on a possible treaty in regards to trade. Zor was still searching for the Fliaanian jewels, but with fatherhood now a part of his life, it took a backseat, of which Elphaba understood, seeing as she and Trism had four children under the age of three to raise. "We've drawn up a rough draft of the treaty; would you be willing to look over it later?" He whispered, kissing her quickly on the mouth. She nodded, meeting his gaze.

"Of course, darling. You never need to ask."

He shrugged. "Even so, I want to make sure I have my queen's permission before anything is passed or signed into law. You are the strongest piece out of the two of us after all." He kissed her again, before gently squeezing her shoulders and turning at Glinda's soft cooing.

Glinda, Elphaba's cousin and companion, Trot realized, sat holding Tip in her arms in the second armchair. She was fixated on the baby, and it was very evident to both young mothers that the blonde wanted a child of her own... but she was so inexperienced in the ways of courting and love that it would never be a reality. "Trism and Fabala have always made the most beautiful babies, I've thought but... this little one is certainly one of the most beautiful babies I've ever seen."

Before anyone could respond, a cry cut through the palace. Elphaba quickly laid her daughter into Zor's arms and then stood, grabbing Trism's hand as they rushed to the nursery. Zor, Glinda, Trot and the rest of the household were behind them, and after a moment, Elphaba rushed to the rocking chair where Faola and Chiss were sitting; the little boy was sitting in front of his sister, crying. "Faola what happened? _What happened?_ " She cried, kneeling down and taking the nearly two-year-old girl by her shoulders, shaking her gently.

The little princess started to cry, and after several minutes, Elphaba was only able to make out the words "chair, accident and Chiss"; her mother pulled her into her arms as her husband knelt to look over their son.

"Fabala." She turned; her husband was pale.

"What?" He held the baby boy in his arms, and after a moment, she saw the bruise forming over her son's small foot. She shook her head. "No!" She took a deep breath, turning to the others who stood in the doorway. "Cattery. _Cattery!_ "

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Fetch Doctor Dillamond. Tell him it's urgent."

"Yes, Your Majesty." And without another word, the young maid rushed off to do as she was told, as Zor and Trot gently laid the twins in the crib they shared.

Glinda gave Tip back to his mother, before hurrying to her cousin, stopping when she saw the bruise on the baby's foot. "Oh, Fabala-"

" _Don't. Glinda._ " The blonde snapped her mouth shut, the meaning clear.

* * *

She couldn't stop moving. If she stopped moving, then that meant she had time to think, and she couldn't afford that. Not while her son was being examined by Doctor Dillamond. While the rest of the household knew the reason why the young king and queen were so on edge, Zor and Trot were left in the dark. And before either could ask, the door to the nursery opened and Dillamond stepped out. _"Well?"_

The doctor sighed; he hated to see the young empress in such a state, and knew that what he had to say would only make it worse. "Your Majesty-"

"My son, Doctor. How is _my son_?"

"Shh, Fabala, calm." Trism whispered, resting his hands on her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but he has the blood disease that affected your brother." Elphaba choked on a sob, covering her mouth. "The most I can do is recommend rest and warm poultices to help combat the swelling. I'm so sorry, Your Majesties." Trism thanked him softly, and once the doctor was gone, he turned to Elphaba.

 _"I did this... I... I gave him that disease... I cursed my son..."_ She broke down fully then, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

"Shh, hush, Fabala... shh, my darling... it's okay, it'll be okay..."

Zor, now thoroughly confused, turned to Glinda, who beckoned for the young couple to follow her. They returned to the Cerulean Room, and Glinda went to the mantel, nodding to the portrait hanging above the fireplace. The pair followed her gaze; two adults and five children, between the ages of ten and eighteen or so stared out at them. The children were huddled around their parents; all wore very solemn expressions, it was evident that they had sat for portraits like this before. The two oldest daughters wore their hair up, and the two youngest wore their hair down; all four princesses were in identical white dresses, and all five had the emerald diamonds tattooed by their eyes.

"Is that-" Glinda nodded at Trot's unfinished question.

"The last Fliaanian Royal Family. Elphaba, and her sisters- Sophelia, Oziandra and Nessarose- and their brother, Shell. Shell had the same disease."

"Wait, the disease that-"

"Chiss has." Glinda finished for the governor. "Fabala's a carrier, and it passes from the mothers to the sons. It was the one thing she was praying would never affect her family." She turned to them. "Nobody else can know. Fabala and Trism don't want anyone else to know. I'm only telling you both because you were both here and they trust you. Don't make them regret it."


	28. Chapter 28

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

She felt his arms slide around her that night as he slipped in beside her. She sniffled, and he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I prayed so hard that he wouldn't be affected." She swallowed, burying her face in the pillow, as her husband pressed another soft kiss to her hair before burying his face in her neck.

"I know, I know, Fabala."

She reached down, covering his hands with hers. Cattery had offered to stay with the little prince that night so his parents could get some rest; the young maid looked on the royal children as her charges, and she took her role very seriously. They were trying to follow Dillamond's advice, using warm poultices and rest in hopes that the swelling and pain would go down; only time would tell, however. The toddler hadn't fussed, he just stared at the adults with Trism's wide blue eyes, unaware of the heartache his seemingly innocent injury was causing his parents.

When Elphaba and Trism had questioned Faola further, all she'd said was that they'd been playing, and that his foot had gotten caught under the rocker of the rocking chair. She'd cried profusely, and Glinda had stayed up with the little girl, calming her down, telling her that her parents weren't angry at her, just worried about her little brother, and that they'd never meant to snap or lose their tempers like they had. By the time Glinda had slipped off to bed, the child had cried herself to sleep.

After a moment, she shifted onto her back, meeting his gaze. "Do you blame me?"

He pulled away. "What? Where would you get an idea like that?" She didn't say anything. "Oh, Fabala, no. Sweetheart," He helped her sit up, pulling her into his lap. "I knew it was a possibility when I married you. We talked about this, remember?" She nodded. "I don't blame you, I could _never_ blame you. This is out of our control, _this_ is _not_ your fault."

* * *

Trism awoke at three the next morning. He was careful as he climbed out of bed, not wanting to wake his wife. Silently, he slipped out of the room and headed down the hall, softly pushing open the nursery door; Cattery was curled up in the rocking chair, sound asleep. Gently, he shook the young girl awake. "Cattery, go get some sleep. I'll stay with them." Too tired to protest, the maid did as the king requested, shutting the door softly behind her. Once alone with his three youngest children- for Faola had her own room at the other end of the hall- he made his way to the crib his son was in; the boy's sisters were sleeping soundly in the bassinet; it rocked gently.

"There's my beautiful boy." The young prince watched his father with big eyes; he'd been awake for the last couple hours, and like his older sister before him, he didn't make much noise. He was a quiet baby, a good baby. Gently, Trism reached in, lifting his son into his arms before making his way to the rocker and taking a seat, being gentle of the boy's foot.

The toddler whimpered softly, and his father quickly looked it over; it wasn't as swollen as it had been the night before, though it was still discolored, and warm to the touch. The poultices had obviously been helping somewhat- as well as the rest the baby had gotten. But if it didn't fully clear up, he didn't know how Elphaba would react. He did know however that his wife wouldn't turn to mystics like her mother had; she would turn to medicine, to men like Doctor Dillamond, and Midwife Ottokos, because she knew that herbs had healing powers. The midwife was revered in her hometown; she was a healer, who relied on herbs and spices, poultices and medicines to combat colds, flues and an assortment of other ailments; she was more than just a midwife, though midwifery was her primary profession. Trism knew that she'd certainly given her help to his wife on at least three occasions of childbirth now.

"Mama and I are so lucky." He whispered, kissing his son's forehead. "We have four beautiful children, and we're going to do everything in our power to make sure you all grow up healthy and happy, and have as normal a childhood as humanly possible. Mama and I may be rulers, but we're parents first. You and your sisters take precedence in our hearts before either the Vinkus or Fliaan." The baby hiccuped. "But Mama's worried; your Uncle Shell had the same disease you do, and his symptoms showed around the same age yours have, I think. But Grandmama Melena and Grandpapa Frexpar went about it the wrong way; they turned to a mystic that took control of the empire. Mama and I won't do that; we won't make your grandparents' mistakes. Not in regards to our countries and _certainly_ not in regards to you and your sisters."

"Hey." He looked up as his wife slipped into the room, pulling her robe around her. She sniffled, making her way to the rocking chair after checking on the girls. Slowly, she knelt down to study her son. "How's my little prince?" Her gaze moved to his foot and after a moment, she looked up at her husband. "Do you... think he'll be okay?"

"Only time will tell, Fabala. But for now, I think he's doing well. It's not as swollen as it was last night, and it's not hurting so badly that he's crying-"

"He rarely cries anyway. He's never been a fussy baby. He's like his sisters-"

"Calm." She nodded.

"How did we end up having such calm babies?"

Her husband chuckled. "I don't know. Let's just hope they remain this calm when they reach puberty."

She rested her head on Trism's knees, watching her son. "I hope so."


	29. Chapter 29

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _"Snow!"_

Elphaba laughed, watching as Faola rushed out into the snow as it fell softly around them that December morning. The two-year-old little girl clapped her hands excitedly, her black curls bouncing beneath her dark blue cap. She wore a white coat over her dress and stockings, and her mittens were quickly covered in the fluffy white powder as she flopped into the snow to make angels.

Elphaba and Trism watched from the back steps of the palace, a seven-month-old little princess curled in each of their arms; Chiss curled into his mother's legs, watching his sister with wide eyes. He didn't quite have the fascination with snow that his sister did, and preferred to stick close to his parents. It had taken time, but eventually the pain went away and the swelling in his foot went down. Miss Greyling had been killed in an automobile accident the week before Chiss had gotten hurt; so Cattery had taken over governing the children. The young maid now helped the little princess make snowballs; Faola squealed, delighting in the activity.

"Brother, play!" She cried, rushing back to her family. "Please?" She added, at her mother's raised eyebrow. Elphaba glanced down at the little boy, but he backed up behind her, wary of the fluffy white stuff that his sister had barreled into moments earlier. Recognizing that their son wasn't too keen on partaking in making snowballs- or anything else to do with the frozen ice crystals- Trism turned to his daughter.

"Maybe later, Faola. Go play with Cattery, darling."

The little girl turned back to the maid, before turning back to her father. "Daddy? Play with me, please?"

Trism glanced at his wife, who rolled her eyes. "Go on." He kissed her firmly on the mouth, before setting Havni down and coming down the steps to take Faola's hand. As soon as the toddler had a hold of her father, she tugged him back toward Cattery. After a moment, Elphaba took a seat beside her little girl, pulling the child into her so that both girls were sitting on her lap; Chiss curled into his mother's side, and Elpahba wrapped her arm around her son, kissing his head.

She looked up in time to see Trism hold out his camera and snap a photograph of them, before he jumped, having been pelted with a snowball. She laughed, only to put her hands up when her husband lobbed a snowball at her; it missed and hit the door behind them. "Not at the babies, Trism Tigelaar!" He held up his hands in surrender, before turning and scooping his daughter up.

"Got you!" The little girl squealed in delight, and Cattery chuckled, enjoying the sight of her young charge having so much fun. She adored the little _Kauri_ ; she adored the entire family, and blamed herself for leaving the two oldest children alone that afternoon; she'd offered to watch them and then had rushed off quickly to answer the phone- only to receive word about the accident- and it had been enough time that the boy had gotten hurt. But Elphaba and Trism, they had understood- they didn't hold it against her, and knew it was an honest mistake.

Eventually, the three returned to the back steps. He scooped one of the twins into his arms, kissing her forehead. "Let's get these little ones inside before they become Fliaanian icicles."

* * *

"Do you ever think about having another baby, Your Majesty?"

Elphaba turned, meeting Cattery's gaze as she gently tucked the twins into the crib they shared that night. Once the children were tucked in bed and asleep, Elphaba followed the young maid into the hallway. Trism was in the study, reading over the latest revision of the trade treaty with Munchkinland, and wouldn't come to bed for a couple hours. "I do." She stopped, thinking, her hands automatically going to her abdomen. "And then I worry that I could bear another son that will share the same fate as Chiashrán, or another daughter, who could be a carrier like her sisters could be."

"But you want more." Cattery whispered, turning to her mistress. Slowly, Elphaba nodded.

"I know that, for all his complaining, my husband would love to have a big family. It was just him and his brother and parents- and I had three sisters and a brother- so I know that he wants our children to experience what I did, family-wise. But-"

"Is he afraid of the disease?"

"You have to understand, Cattery, that the king believes in logic. My mother-in-law told me once that if he had not been born a prince of the Vinkus, he would have been a brilliant scientist. He has a mind unlike any I have ever seen. And a heart to match. He is not just my husband, he is my soulmate."

They moved down the stairs, heading into the kitchen. "If you do have another baby, would you really have thirty children?" Elphaba snorted softly, a grin tugging at her lips.

"Who told you that I dreamed of one day having thirty children? Countess Upland?" Cattery nodded. "Yes, well, that was all I wanted at the time. To marry a Fliaanian soldier and have as many children as the Unnamed God would allow. I didn't care that I was a _Kauri_. All I ever wanted was to be a mother." She took a seat at the table as the maid fixed coffee. "And now I am one and... and I still want more."

"Thirty?"

"For the love of the Unnamed God, no. I'll settle for eight."

"You are never going to let that go, are you?" She turned as Trism entered the kitchen, the draft of the treaty in his grasp. Cattery dropped into a quick curtsy. Elphaba met his gaze as he took a seat beside her, and accepted the cup the maid set in front of him.

"Having eight children? No."

"And I'm not exactly a Fliaanian soldier." He muttered, and she smiled softly, reaching out to stroke his chin.

"You have the heart of a Fliaanian soldier, my love. I will content myself with that, even if you are a king." They shared a quick kiss, before Elphaba set her cup down and grabbed the treaty. "The latest draft?"

He nodded. "Zor and I have tried everything we can think of, but can't find a solution to the illegal export of rubies from Quadling Country through both the Vinkus and Munchkinland into the City." He watched his wife quickly scan through the draft, her dark eyes drinking in every word. Finally,

"Suggest that those coming from Quadling Country must submit a letter of allowance to export rubies into the City by way of Munchkinland and the Vinkus. If they cannot produce the letter, then they are transporting them illegally and must face charges of racketeering and selling of black market jewels and will serve the punishment that the courts see fit." She handed it back, picking up her cup and taking a sip.

Trism watched her for a moment, trying to figure out exactly how she'd managed to come to such a conclusion in a matter of five minutes, when it had taken him _two hours_ and he'd come up with nothing. "Um..."

His wife turned to him, her big dark eyes reminiscent of her children as she innocently asked, "Do you want me to write it down for you?"


	30. Chapter 30

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _"Who thought of it?"_

"Elphaba did."

A low whistle sounded on the other end of the line. _"She's a keeper, Trism."_

The king chuckled softly. "I know she is. I intend to keep her for as long as she'll have me." The two men talked for a few minutes more before,

 _"I'll put it into effect immediately."_

"Sounds good, Zor."

 _"Oh, and Trism, tell Elphaba that Trot and I haven't given up on the Fliaanian jewels. We've just hit a bit of a snag evidence-wise."_

"I will. Thank you, Zor." After hanging up, he slipped out of the study, finding his wife in her boudoir, absorbed in a book. Faola was sitting on the sofa, reading a story to her siblings. Silently, he made his way to his wife, slipping his arms around her shoulders and kissing her neck. She giggled, reaching up to tangle a hand in his hair. "You are brilliant, my queen. It'll go into effect tomorrow."

"I thought it already went into effect."

He met her gaze. "In the Vinkus. I just spoke to Zor; he's just signed it. It goes into effect in Munchkinland tomorrow."

"Good."

"Have I told you how brilliant you are?" She closed her book, setting it aside and turning to him.

"You have, but it's nice to hear."

* * *

With the new trade treaty taking effect as of the first of January, things seemed to be fairly calm for the family. Between meetings with Parliament, returning trips to the Vinkus, state visits for both countries, and four rambunctious children, all under the age of five, life kept the royal family on their toes. Zor and Trot had had another child- a little girl named Amalina- and asked Trism and Elphaba to be her godparents. It was the children's first official state visit, and they had all be on their best behavior, knowing how important it was.

By March, the nine-month-old twins had become exceedingly attached to their older siblings, and Faola started referring to the girls as 'her babies'. They were exceedingly careful with Chiss, and the few times he had gotten hurt, Elphaba and Trism had sent for Dillamond immediately. His suggestion was always the same- rest and warm poultices. On the one rare instance where a servant suggested taking the young prince to a mystic, Elphaba had lost it; screaming, yelling, crying to the point where she'd been so distraught, that by the time Trism was able to calm her down, she'd lost her voice. Everyone knew Elphaba's fear- she'd watched her brother, watched her mother become so dependent on Yackle, that she feared going down that same path.

Safe to say, mystics were never mentioned again.

* * *

He brushed soft kisses to her skin, brushing her black curls off her back to kiss her skin before moving to kiss her shoulder. He nipped gently, noticing her response, and did it again. She wiggled her hips, moaning softly, feeling him gently tug her back to him, fingers leaving light bruises on her skin. The children were all sound asleep, which meant their parents had time to themselves; time to spend catching up and getting reacquainted. And this... this was the best kind of reacquainting.

The twins would turn a year in twenty-two days, but neither were thinking of that; they were only focused on each other, and the light May breeze coming in through the slightly open window. It didn't seem possible, that they had a two-and-a-half-year-old, a one-and-a-half-year-old, and two little girls that were twenty-two days shy of turning a year. And yet, it was.

 _"... Fabala..."_

 _"Oh, Tris..."_

He kissed her shoulder again, pushing into her; she groaned as he managed to stimulate the bundle between her legs simply by pushing into her. They'd been at this for hours, discovering, exploring, rediscovering, re-exploring. Finally, they collapsed from pleasure, curling around each other with soft kisses and caresses. She shifted onto her back, feeling him pull out of her. "Tris? Can I be honest?"

He propped himself onto his elbow, reaching out to brush a strand of hair off her cheek. "You can always be honest with me, Fabala."

She sighed, wrapping her arms around herself. "I... I actually don't like being pregnant. I... I mean I do, I just... I enjoy making our babies more than carrying them Certainly more than birthing them."

He chuckled. "Sweetheart, that's normal."

"It is?"

He nodded. "It's perfectly normal for women to enjoy sex more than pregnancy. And given what you go through, I don't blame you."

"You don't think I'm horrible?"

"Not at all." He kissed her sweetly. "Frankly, I think motherhood is beautiful on you, and pregnancy makes you even more gorgeous than you are, but..." He kissed her again, deeper this time. "I think my favorite look on you is sex." She grinned. "There's just something about you during sex that I can't quite put my finger on, but I love trying to figure it out." Without another word, he pinned her down, kissing her deeply, pressing against her.

"Mmm... do it, please, darling. We haven't made love the inappropriate way in months..."

"I'm fairly certain this is the only appropriate way, according to society, my love." He replied, and she met his gaze.

"Not for us. This is as inappropriate for us as what we do is for the rest of society."

He sighed, kissing her again. "I'd rather take you our way."

She thumbed his bottom lip. "So would I, but please, appease me, just this once." She pouted, and after a moment, he kissed her, pushing into her firmly.

"Whatever you wish, my queen." He kissed her firmly, and she wrapped her arms tight around his neck.

"Take me just once the way the rest of society does, and then once you're done, pull me to my knees and take me the way you did before- the way a wolf takes his mate."


	31. Chapter 31

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

By the end of her third month, the pregnancy was evident; this being Elphaba's fifth child, she knew the symptoms right away. Unlike her last three, her clothing had started getting tighter almost instantly, and she resorted to the flowing, loose fitting dresses she'd worn for her first two. Faola, as the oldest, instantly decided that the new baby would be hers to take care of, and didn't hesitate to tell her mother so on more than one occasion.

* * *

"Mama?"

Elphaba slowly opened her eyes; after her meeting with Parliament, she'd come back to Colwen Grounds and gone upstairs to lie down. Her nap clearly wasn't going to last. A soft sigh escaped her throat. "What is it, little wolf?"

Without a word, Faola climbed onto the bed; having just turned three- her brother two, and the twins a year- the little girl was starting to worry that she was going to be replaced by the new baby. She curled into her mother's arms, resting her head on her chest. She looked up, hearing the late-December wind rattle the window; in one month, Mama would have her baby, and she would be forgotten.

"Are you worried about the baby?" The girl shook her head. "About Chiss?" Another shake. "The girls?" She asked, referring to the twins. Again, another shake. A moment passed, before Elphaba realized what was wrong. "Are you worried we're going to forget you?" The girl looked up at her mother, nodding slowly. Elphaba sat up, pulling her oldest closer. "Oh, Faola, you have nothing to worry about. Daddy and I aren't going to forget you. We love you. You're our first. You have a very special place in our hearts."

"Promise?" She gently brushed a strand of black hair off the girl's forehead.

"I _absolutely_ promise, little wolf." She whispered, pulling her daughter as close as humanly possible, the meaning of her daughter's name ringing in her ears. "You're my and Daddy's first pup, that makes you _very_ special." She reached down, gently stroking her belly. "And that means you need to help Daddy and I with this new baby when he comes, okay?" After a moment, the girl nodded. "Good- _oh!_ " She rested a hand against the side of her belly, feeling the baby kick. "Do you want to the feel the baby?"

Slowly, the girl nodded, and Elphaba took her hand, resting it against her belly. The child's bright blue eyes turned to her mother, and after a moment, Elphaba shifted, lifting her dress up, exposing the soft mound of her belly so it was easier for the girl to see. There were times when it was hard for her to believe she only had a month to go, but then she would feel the baby kick or stretch and remember that it was real. "Press down gentle, Faola." The little girl did as told, squealing when she felt her mother's belly move. "I know, it feels funny, doesn't it?" The child nodded, watching as her mother gently rubbed circles over her skin. "But he'll be here soon, and then we'll get to hold him and kiss him, just like we do with you and your brother and sisters." Faola curled against her mother again, as the bedroom door opened and Trism poked his head in.

"There she is. Cattery came downstairs asking if I'd see Faola; said she'd disappeared. I should have known she would have come to disturb you, love."

"She's not disturbing me, Tris. We're just..." She glanced at her daughter. "Spending some time together before our second little prince arrives." She added, rubbing her belly. Her husband raised an eyebrow.

"You really think we're having another boy?" Elphaba nodded. He made his way towards her, leaning down to kiss her gently. "I promise you, that I will do everything in my power to make sure he and Chiss are well cared for." She reached up, gently stroking his cheek.

"I know, Tris. Believe me, I know."

* * *

Lurlinemas was fairly quiet for the growing family; Faola stuck close to her mother the entire holiday. She rarely played with her brother and sisters; instead choosing to take her mother's words to heart. So it was around the last day of the old year and the first day of the new that Faola thought she would be able to help her mother with the baby like her mama had said.

The two were sitting on the sofa in the Cerulean Room, reading a book, when her mother suddenly stopped mid-sentence and grabbed her belly. "Mama?"

"Faola, go get Daddy." The girl didn't move. After a moment, Elphaba grabbed her daughter's chin, forcing them to lock eyes. "Remember how I said that Daddy and I would need your help when the baby comes?" The girl nodded. "He's coming, my little wolf. Go get Daddy." The child slid off the sofa, rushing from the room. "Tell him to hurry!"

The child hurried down the stairs; Cattery was in the sitting room with her siblings, watching over them. The young maid stood upon seeing the child rush past. "Faola," The child skidded to a stop, turning to the maid, unaware that her father had come out of the study at the sound of running. "There's no need to run through the palace. What would your mother say?" The child bit her lip. Mama had told her to get Daddy; but Cattery had helped Mama through her last two births- maybe three, but she wasn't sure- so should she tell her and then tell Daddy?

After a moment, the child whispered, "Mama."

Cattery glanced up at Trism; he and Elphaba had told the young Crown Princess to only come get someone if-

Without another word, the king and maid rushed up the stairs, leaving Faola watching from her place in the hallway. One of the other servants came out to check on them, but the look on the little girl's face told her everything. As she reached for the young princess, to take her into the sitting room to occupy her and her siblings during the birth, Faola bolted for the stairs.


	32. Chapter 32

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

The three-year-old Crown Princess managed to slip into the bedroom just Cattery closed the door behind her. Faola instantly moved to hurry to her mother's side, but the older girl grabbed her arm. "You can't be in here, little _Kauri_."

"But Mama-"

"Cattery, fetch Doctor Dillamond and your mother."

The maid nodded, taking the little girl's hand, but the child yanked away from her, rushing to her father. Trism shook his head, and the young woman nodded, hurrying off to do as she was asked. She didn't get very far; with the snowstorm that was falling, everyone was stranded. Roads were blocked, and people were forced to stay inside. The young woman returned, informing her master and mistress of the complications. _"Mmm... no one... can go anywhere... in this weather... and yet... our son decides... that it's the perfect... time for him to arrive..."_

A soft knock at the door caused them to look up; Locasta poked her head in. "Is everything all right? Scarly said something about-" She was cut off by a groan, and suddenly realized what was going on. "I'll be right back, darlings."

"No, Mother, the roads-"

Elphaba reached for her husband, curling into his arms as the contractions grabbed her around the waist again. Faola watched in silence, afraid to do anything, but not wanting to leave her parents. Twenty minutes later, Locasta returned with Partra and Glinda in tow; Illnora and Manek had agreed to stay downstairs with the children. The dowager empress carried towels and blankets, and other things that would be required during a birth. "What are you doing?"

Locasta turned to her son. "Whether you believe it or not, my son, women have been birthing babies for centuries, and many of them weren't the ruler of two countries, who had a midwife and a doctor at their beck and call. Most women did it alone or with other women there to help. And since the storm is preventing any form of travel anywhere, it looks like you're going to be delivering this baby the old-fashioned way."

He glanced at his wife, who reached up, caressing his cheek. "This isn't my first, my king. This is my fifth, remember? The only difference is that Midwife Ottokos and Doctor Dillamond aren't here-"

"And if something goes wrong?" Trism demanded, and Elphaba understood what he was asking.

"Um... we have someone who knows midwifery." Everyone turned to Glinda. "Cattery." Slowly, every head turned to the young maid, who very suddenly realized that every member of the royal family was staring at her.

"I... I have only helped my mother, I am not-"

Partra rested a hand on the girl's shoulder. "You're more knowledgeable than some of the others here, dear."

* * *

Faola climbed onto the bed, sitting beside her mother, who sat taking strange breaths, hands against her belly. "Mama?" A moment passed, before Elphaba turned to her daughter.

"You are supposed to be with your brother and sisters, little wolf." She whispered, but the girl curled into her mother's side. Elphaba sighed, realizing that the little girl was simply following her orders- helping her and Trism when the baby came. "Faola, you can't be in here when the baby's born."

"But Mama-"

"I know, sweetheart, but this is something you shouldn't see until you're ready to have your own little one." She closed her eyes, taking another deep breath. "Go wait with your brother and sisters, okay love?"

After a moment, the child slipped off the bed, going to the door. She turned back, biting her lip, and her father went to her. "One of us will come get you when the baby comes. Okay, little one?" The child nodded, and he kissed her head, shutting the door softly behind her.

* * *

The hours dragged on; the snowstorm outside got worse. And Faola, instead of going downstairs to join her siblings, had seated herself at the top of the stairs, waiting nervously for Daddy to come get her like he promised.

Back in their bedroom, Elphaba's contractions were in the process of getting stronger. Having removed her dress, she was once more in only her shift, her long black hair falling out of the twist she'd put it in. Everyone tried to make her as comfortable as humanly possible, but nothing was comfortable. She was pacing back and forth, hands on her back, trying to ignore the growing pain. _"Mmm..."_ She let out a groan, releasing a breath. _"This baby... is going to take his time... he's in no hurry... to come out..."_

"Um... Your Majesty?"

Elphaba turned to the maid. "Yes?"

"I... I need to... to check your..." Cattery swallowed, and after a moment, Elphaba nodded, allowing her husband to help her sit. Leaning back against Trism, she shut her eyes, biting her lip as she felt the young maid gently examine her progress. "The baby's head is there, Your Majesty, but your waters haven't ruptured yet." Elphaba let out a groan, squeezing Trism's hand.

Hours passed; her labor progressed, her contractions getting stronger and closer together. Unable to handle sitting on the ottoman, she stood, Trism holding her up in a dangling squat; it was in this position that her waters burst around midnight, a cry escaping her throat as suddenly her labor progressed and the baby started to crown. In a matter of minutes, the top of the baby's head was out; another head of black curls, Glinda informed the birthing mother, and Elphaba just nodded.

By two a.m. on the first of January, the baby's head was completely out. Cattery, being careful of the entire situation, gently supported the baby's head as his mother bore down; her being in a squatting position had the added benefit of gravity- similar to when she'd given birth on the stool- and in a matter of minutes, the first shoulder was out, followed by the second. _"One more push, Your Majesty! One more! You're almost done! The baby's almost out, you just need to give one last good push!"_

"You hear that, my queen? One more and our little prince will be born." She nodded, having heard both Cattery and Trism, and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. Taking a deep breath, she bore down, a scream escaping her throat; one that was soon mirrored by the newborn boy that slid into Cattery's arms.

"Your son is here, Your Majesties." Elphaba leaned back against her husband, catching her breath, as the young maid cleaned the baby; once everything was cleaned up, Elphaba was helped back to the bed. As she settled back against the pillows, her husband pulled away.

"I'm just going to go get the children." She nodded, as Cattery laid the baby in her arms. Manek and Illnora slipped inside with Chiss and the twins, and when Trism asked where his oldest was, Manek nodded towards the stairs.

"We didn't want to move her." Trism made his way to his oldest daughter, a small smile playing on his lips. Gently, he knelt down, scooping the girl into his arms and settling her on his shoulder.

"Faola," Tenderly, he brushed his finger against her cheek. "Wake up, my little pup." The child yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "There's my bright eyed princess." He shifted the child on his hip, giving her a few minutes to wake up before heading back to their bedroom. "I promised I'd come get you when the baby came. Let's go meet your new baby brother, okay?" She nodded, yawning.

Everyone looked up as Trism returned with Faola in his arms. "She fell asleep on the stairs."

"Why was she waiting on the stairs?" Locasta asked, shifting her hold on her oldest grandson.

Trism kissed the girl's head, taking a seat next to his wife. The couple shared a glance, and after a moment, Elphaba smiled at her daughter. "She was waiting for the baby to arrive."


	33. Chapter 33

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 **A/N: So Faola was born in October 1929, Chiss in August 1930, Havni and Fechin in May 1931, and Kio in January 1933. As for the eight children... well, you'll have to keep reading and let me know what you think. Zani hasn't gotten to the point where she's up for writing fanfiction agian, but she _does_ read the reviews you guys post. So keep reviewing!** **\- Licia**

Elphaba cradled the infant in her arms; three months had passed since the snowstorm and her son's birth. Both baptisms had taken place; Elphaba and Trism had asked Zor and Trot to be the baby's godparents- of which both agreed- and after some debate, the couple had settled on a name.

Kiónán Frexpar Zorin Tigelaar- Kió as he was called by his family.

Like his siblings before him, he was black-haired and blue-eyed; being only three months old, there were no signs that he suffered the from the disease his brother did, but only time would tell.

Faola, yet to turn four, doted on the baby like he was hers; she often followed her mother around when she was home, watching intently and trying to mimic whatever she was doing- including carrying the doll Cousin Avaric had given her for her first birthday around like it was her baby and she its mother. It wasn't uncommon for Trism or Elphaba or someone else in the household to snap photographs of the children, and there were a number of pictures of Faola with her doll.

Unlike her other children, Elphaba's second little prince enjoyed bath time; the baby would squeal and gurgle in delight as his mother gently poured the water over him. "I guess we chose the right name for you after all, my little seal." She whispered one afternoon while she was giving her son his bath; Faola watched her mother intently.

"Little seal. My little seal." She said, meeting her mother's eye, beaming as her mother smiled at her, happy and relieved that she was responding so well to having another infant in the family.

While her other children loved their little brother, they weren't as keen on playing parent or being around the baby as much, like Faola was; Chiss had reached the stage where he was exhibiting jealousy, and Trism and Elphaba often had to have firm little talks with the young Crown Prince in regards to his attitude towards his brother. As for Havni and Fechín, the two two-year-old little girls didn't know what to think of their little brother. They preferred to stick close to their older siblings or Cattery, avoiding the new baby as much as possible.

Once the baby was dried off and dressed in clean clothing, Elphaba took the baby back into the nursery. She settled in the rocking chair, shrugging out of her blouse, as her oldest leaned against the arm of the chair, watching with curious silence. After several minutes of trying, and when the infant still hadn't latched onto her breast to nurse, the young queen turned to her daughter. Suddenly, it was very evident why her son wasn't nursing; he was as enthralled with his sister as she was with him. Though his blue eyes were unfocused and his vision was poor- trouble focusing as all three-to-four-month-olds did- he knew his older sister was there, and was too interested in her to latch onto his mother's breast to nurse.

"Faola," The little girl slowly met her mother's gaze. "I need to nurse your brother. I can't do that if he's interested in you. Why don't you go play with Chiss, Havni and Fechín for a while. Kió and I will still be here when you're done." The child furrowed a brow, pouting. "Please, Faola." After a moment, the child did as told, leaving the nursery. Once the child was gone, Elphaba turned back to her son. She gently brushed her nipple against the baby's cheek, after several seconds, watched as her son finally latched on, taking her whole areola into his mouth. The familiar suckling reached her ears, and after a moment, she sighed, resting her head against the back of the chair.

 _"Already she has two brothers? And all I ended up with were sisters."_ Elphaba lifted her head, to find Shell watching her. _"I would have loved to have a brother."_

 _"You do have a brother, Shell."_ Oziandra replied, joining him. _"Trism; he's our brother-in-law."_

 _"But I barely remember him and I doubt he remembers me."_

"He remembers you, Shell." Elphaba whispered, meeting her baby brother's gaze as her son nursed contentedly. "The few visits he came on, he remembers you. All of you. And the ice mountain."

Shell grinned. _"Mama let me help you build it."_

 _"For once, and you spent so much time outside, I was afraid you were going to have an attack."_ After a moment, Melena made her way to her daughter. A soft sigh escaped her throat. _"He's truly beautiful, Fabala."_

 _"Of course Fabala would make beautiful babies. She was always the prettiest out of all of us."_ Nessa cut in, joining the conversation. Her older sister blushed.

 _"That's enough, Nessa. You were all beautiful in your own way."_

 _"But only Fabala had a betrothal, Mama."_ Oziandra whispered softly; she'd had offers, but had turned them all down, like Sophelia, she hadn't wanted to leave Fliaan. But if she had, it would have saved her life.

 _"To the wrong brother."_ Nessa countered, meeting her older sister's gaze. _"I never liked Fiyero. He always thought he was better than everyone else. I liked Trism. He was nice."_

"Nessa?" The girl turned to her sister. "Are you upset with me? That... that I married Trism? And that... that we've had children? I know you were in love with him. And he was in love with you." The twelve-year-old thought a moment, before shrugging.

 _"I'm not upset. I loved Trism, but..."_ She let her gaze wander to her nephew nursing hungrily at his mother's breast. _"I knew I was never going to live to get married or have children."_ She met her sister's gaze. _"Besides, he_ really _loves you, Fabala. And after everything that's gone on, you most of all deserve to be happy. And Trism can make you happy."_


	34. Chapter 34

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

He brushed a kiss to his wife's hair, his arms sliding around her waist and holding her close. It was one of the rare days when Elphaba didn't have to be up to meet with Parliament, and they didn't have to catch a train to the Vinkus for some meeting the following day. The entire household was quiet, and soft June sunshine filtered in through the windows, splashing across the floor of the bedroom.

With a soft sigh, she shifted, turning to face him. "Good morning, my darling."

He pulled away from her, stretching; her dark eyes drank in the shifting of his muscles. It was a sight she absolutely loved- her husband, laid out before her, completely relaxed. Then again, Trism's personality was so laid back, he was nearly parallel with the floor to the point that it disturbed her at times. A smile tugged at her lips; with the blankets pushed down to his waist, she could see the diamonds at his hip. She knew the pattern by heart now- how they started at his right shoulder and moved down his back in a pattern similar to a tornado, before ending on his hip, right below his stomach. Gently, she reached out, fingers moving to stroke the sapphire tattoos she could see.

"What made you choose such a pattern? Or are you given a choice in regards to your diamonds in the Vinkus?"

He watched her for several minutes, gathering his thoughts. "You're given a choice- decide on a design yourself or choose one already created- but if you can't decide, then the decision is made for you."

"Which did you take?" She settled her head on her arms.

"I chose it on my own."

"How? I mean... that's not a common pattern. Your father's went across his shoulders and your brother's was on his chest-"

"I saw a windstorm, when I was a child. We were spending the summer at Rigmarole, and my brother and I were out playing by the lake, and suddenly this wind picked up. It pulled the water at the center of the lake, and we watched this giant hole appear, and the shape of the water- I've never forgotten it. So when I had to have my diamonds put on, I asked to have that pattern done."

She raised an eyebrow. "A windstorm in the middle of the lake?" He nodded. "Your diamonds do kind of look like a windstorm, in a way." She shifted closer, curling into his side. "Does your mother have the diamonds also?" He nodded, sliding his arm around her. "I only thought Vinkun men had them."

"Women have them too. Mother received them when she came to the Vinkus to marry my father. Have you ever looked at her wrists?" She shook her head. "She has three diamonds on each wrist; most women choose flashy elaborate designs, but she wanted something simple."

"The simpler the better." He nodded. "So, what about our children? They all have the Fliaanian diamonds, do they need the Vinkun ones?"

Her husband sighed, thinking. "By status of their birth, they should each receive their diamonds when they reach ten years of age. That's the rule within the Vinkus, those born or married into the royal family receive a pattern of sapphire diamonds of their choice. Obviously there are exceptions," She blushed. "You would have received your diamonds upon your marriage to my brother, had everything gone as planned and the revolution not ended your parents' rule. You would have been a mere princess, marrying the Crown Prince, it would have been required."

"But we got married and I didn't have the diamonds added then. No one said anything about them at all to me."

He chuckled softly. "That's because of your status." He smiled softly at her quizzical glance. "If someone of a higher rank marries into the Vinkun royal family, they are exempt from the diamonds, unless they truly want them put on."

"And our children? They're the children of the king-"

"It's their choice. They may be Vinkun children, but they're also the children of the Fliaanian empress, and therefore, it's not required for them to receive their diamonds."

"That's not fair, Tris. You should have a say, you're their father-"

"And you're their mother. You may be my queen, but you're also Fliaan's empress, and therefore, they're exempt from the diamonds, unless they choose to have them added. Honestly, I'm perfectly content with them simply having the diamonds by their eyes and that's it. If they would like to have the sapphires added when they get older, then they can, but for now..." He shrugged. "Besides, I have a say in their lives in other ways." She grabbed his hand as he cradled her cheek, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Do you really want eight children, Fabala?"

"Why do you ask, Tris?"

"I just thought that five would be enough for you. You were a child of five, after all."

She sighed. "Ever since I was a little girl, I wanted to get married and have children. We would go out in the city or on state visits, and I would see the mothers with their children, and I always wanted to be like them. I determined when I was about six-years-old or so that I was going to marry a Fliaanian soldier- because they were strong and handsome and respectful, and they loved Papa and Mama and Fliaan so much that they would serve to protect them and her. As I got older, I knew that a betrothal meant marriage, and while I didn't want to leave Fliaan, I knew that marriage would mean that I could be a mother, like I always wanted, so I accepted my fate." She shrugged. "And then everything happened, and Papa abdicated... and we were... sent to that _horrible_ House of Special Purpose..."

He sat up, pulling her into his lap. "I'm so sorry, Fabala."

She shrugged, meeting his gaze. "When I married your brother... even though I didn't remember... I knew that I wanted children, and... he was... skittish, I guess. He would always change the subject when I brought it up; he told me at one point that children didn't deserve the right to exist, that they... depleted our resources and made the world a worse place, and that... if he'd had a say... all children would be murdered upon leaving the womb..."

Trism took a deep breath, turning his head; it was evident that he was trying to control his temper. "My brother has always had... funny... views on the world. When we were kids, he told me that our parents only had me because they needed a personal servant for their 'true born' son; from the time I was old enough to walk, I knew that I was the spare, but hearing him say that I wasn't even good enough to be considered a spare... I went crying to my mother, and he was punished for saying it; Mother took me aside after and told me that I was born because they wanted another child, and had hoped that if he had a sibling, that... well, maybe he would act... a little more... normal. But honestly, I think my existence just made it worse."

"How so, Tris?"

They locked eyes, and he bit his lip. "When I was eight, we were playing hide and seek in Kiamo Ko with a couple of our cousins, and... and Yero, he..." He sighed, swallowing thickly. "He convinced me that the well in the basement of the palace was the best place to hide. I was a child, and he was my big brother; I idolized him, I adored him, and... so I climbed to the well, and he put the lid back on it and then disappeared. I waited... hours, I guess, but no one came looking for me. I was convinced that I had the best hiding spot... but it had rained the night before, and the well started to fill... I couldn't stay afloat and ended up going under... I nearly drowned."

Elphaba gasped, covering her mouth, tears in her eyes. "Oh, Tris-"

"To this day, I don't remember how I got out. My parents came looking for me when I didn't turn up for lunch; I guess my cousins mentioned something about hide and seek, but I can't be sure. The only thing I really remember is this... strange creature poking her head out of the water as I was struggling to keep from going under."

"Creature? Like a fish?"

"No. The upper half of her body was female, but she had a fin and her hands were webbed. She had black scales and green skin- as green as the diamonds by your eyes, my love- and she couldn't save me, but that there was a girl who could; a pretty little girl with diamonds the color of her skin. That she had sent her to me, to make sure I got out alive. My parents found me three hours later, half-drowned, according to the doctor. I... when they pulled me out of the well... I died in my mother's arms... and then... I... I don't know... I... I woke up and everyone was staring at me. I told them that the girl with the green skin had saved me, but no one believed me. They thought I was delirious from having been in the well so long. And my brother... he seemed upset that I'd survived."

He took her hand, studying it in silence for several minutes. "Tris-"

"I think _that_ was the moment I realized that my brother hated me and wanted me dead. There was... _is_... something not right with Fiyero, and there never has been. I don't know if he was born with it or if it manifested on its own, but there is something seriously wrong with him. Something..."

"Wicked?" His wife offered.

" _Wicked_." He nodded. "Evil, even, I'd say. He was... a borderline sociopath, I think, if I'm being honest. And... I think the only reason he got you out of the basement that night was because he wanted to make sure one of you were still alive so he could one day come back and marry into the family for the wealth. I don't think he saved you because it was the right thing to do or because he loved you. I think it was all for personal, selfish gain. And if I'm wrong, then... then there's a reason, but he won't say what it was. But I don't think it was because he cared about you."

"He... he told me the day he came to see me... that if I'd just... walked away from everything... that he could forgive me and we could be together."

Her husband scoffed and shook his head. "No. That's not Yero. That's not the Yero _I_ know. Everything my brother does has a hidden price to it. And he will do whatever he has to to get what he wants, no matter the cost." He wrapped his arms tight around her waist. "Even though he hadn't known about the baby- from what I could figure he didn't- I think he showed up with the intent to cause as much pain as possible."

"Well he certainly did just that. He cost us our first child." She met his gaze, reaching up to caress his cheek. "Tris?" He waited. "I really do want eight. That's all I've ever wanted- to be married and have children. Will that... be okay? If we have eight kids? I know you probably are perfectly happy with-" He rested a finger to her lips.

"I always wanted a big family, Fabala. And I was disappointed when it was just my brother and I. When we were kids, and came to visit your family... I saw the siblings you had, and I was so jealous. I thought you were the luckiest children in the world. And you and your siblings truly loved each other... I dreamed of something like that for months after... to have siblings who really cared and..." He shrugged. "If you're willing to raise eight children, if you think you can _handle_ being a mother to eight, I'll be right there with you."

She nodded. "Promise?"

"With all my heart. I love you. All I want is to see you happy, my queen."

"I'm so glad you survived being in that well." She curled into his chest. "I don't want to ever imagine what my life would have been like had we never..." She sighed. "I'm glad your brother gave up the throne. He would have been a tyrant. He didn't deserve it, and you do... You're a wonderful king, and I'm so glad to be your wife. I love you."


	35. Chapter 35

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _Laughter filled the air; girlish laughter._

 _"Girls. Girls! Come greet our guests."_

 _Suddenly, four girls appeared before the Vinkun royal family; dressed in identical white, short-sleeved dresses with blue satin sashes, their black hair pulled back away from their faces with white bows, they lined up in birth order, falling silent as they faced the Vinkun royals. Their mother held her son's hand, watching her daughters- the youngest about six and the oldest twelve- but the girls didn't move. They gathered together, whispering amongst themselves, casting glances at the royals that stood before them. The third daughter ducked between her older sisters to study the royals, before popping back up and rising on her toes to whisper something in her oldest sister's ear._

 _"... look at their clothing! It's so... different..."_

 _"... their eyes are so blue! They can't possibly be real!"_

 _"Isn't the oldest boy the one Fabala's betrothed to? He's very... interesting..."_

 _The empress sighed, apologizing silently to the royals for her gossipy daughters. "Girls! That's enough! It's not polite to gossip, and Papa and I did not raise four little girls to peck at people like hens at feed, now tell them hello." The two youngest giggled, but a glare from their mother sent both covering their mouths with their hands and falling silent._

 _After a moment, the girls returned to their line and quickly curtsied, four identical heads of black curls ducking as they did so. "May we go back to playing now, Mama?" The youngest asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet._

 _"You may play later; it's time for tea." The empress held out a hand to her third daughter. "Fabala, remember Papa and I told you about your betrothal? This is your intended; Fiyero." Slowly, the girl took her mother's hand, allowing her to pull her forward, as the Vinkun king gently nudged his oldest forward as well. She turned to her mother, who nodded, and after a moment, the child held out a hand._

 _"It's... very nice to meet you." She whispered, as the young prince quickly kissed her hand and then made a face, before retreating back behind his father. As the girl hid her hands behind her back- she was working on rubbing the kiss off on the back of her skirt so her mother couldn't see- she turned big, innocent eyes up to her mother. "May we go play now? Please, Mama?" Melena raised an eyebrow. "We don't want to stay for tea."_

 _The Vinkun queen chuckled. "It's all right, Melena, the girls don't have to stay." She turned to her sons- her oldest the same age as his betrothed, and her youngest a year older than the youngest princess. "Do you want to go play with the girls?" Both boys glanced at the young princesses. The girls were giggling and whispering to each other, casting curious glances at them._

 _After a moment, the boys nodded, silent. Once the girls had gotten permission, they took off; the youngest girl, Nessa, took Elphaba's hand, tugging her behind her as they dashed off. But the older girl turned back, meeting the younger prince's eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. Without a word, they dashed off, and after a moment, the boys followed, the glimpses of their white dresses leading the way._

Trism shifted the five-month-old infant in his arms. He watched his two oldest rush towards the edge of the lake, laughing and shouting in excitement. The family was spending some time at Rigmarole, the hunting lodge where Trism and Elphaba had spent their honeymoon. A warm, late-June breeze came up, making the water ripple, as the children splashed around. Elphaba held onto the hands of their two younger daughters; the two-year-olds weren't exactly thrilled at the water, and clung to their mother as their brother and sister splashed around in delight. Silently, Elphaba scooped Fechín up, settling her on her hip before taking Havni's hand and leading the girl back to where her father was sitting with their little brother.

"They don't exactly want to play." He chuckled, kissing his son's head as his youngest daughters sat in the sand and proceeded to build castles. The beaches around the lake were of soft, peach-colored sand- an oddity that drew visitors- and Trism remembered chasing after his cousins and brother on these same beaches as a child. He had loved coming to Rigmarole; it meant he didn't have to act like a prince all the time- he could relax and have fun, and he wanted his children to feel the same. "Were this Caprice-in-the-Pines, my sisters and I would have been first in the water." Elphaba said, recalling the nickname for the palace that was her family's summer residence when Frexpar and Melena still ruled. "We loved to swim; Papa would even join us, and Shell was allowed on occasion. But most of the time he just stayed on the beach with Mama, because of his disease, and Mama was afraid he would hurt himself."

A faraway look moved across her eyes, and she sighed. "Mama!" Faola's voice drew her from her thoughts. "Mama, come play! Please?" She turned to her husband, who shrugged.

"Go on, love." She stood, slipping out of her shoes. "But don't you want to change first? You're going to get soaked if you go in like that." She turned back to him, a grin tugging at her lips.

 _"Your skirts are going to get soaked, Sophelia Frexparia."_

 _"So? Tha-"_

"That's why wading in the water is half the fun." She replied, remembering her oldest sister telling Aunt Illnora the exact same thing. She then grabbed the skirt of her dress and rushed to join her two oldest children. Trism rolled his eyes, chuckling. The sight of his wife playing with their children was too good an opportunity to pass up, and he grabbed the small candy-box camera they'd brought with them, making sure to capture the images of his wife's shimmering smile forever in time.


	36. Chapter 36

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

She felt him curl around her, burying his face in her hair.

Without a word, she reached up, stroking his cheek before allowing sleep to claim her once again. The fire in the fireplace still burning in the grate, warming the whole room, and yet she still burrowed further in the blankets, feeling him tighten his arms around her in his sleep. The season was just starting to slip into autumn, a time when all of Fliaan would burst into beautiful, warm colors, when marriages were at times taking place and the harvests were being stored away for winter.

A time when new life was forming for many women who found themselves in condition again.

After a moment, she slipped out of his arms, pulling her robe on over her pajamas and slipping out of the room. She made her way to the nursery to check on her son; her other children slept soundly, leaving the palace quiet. The nursery door shut softly behind her, and she made her way to the crib, to check on the little prince. The seven-month-old opened his eyes as his mother lifted him from the crib, before yawning and returning to sleep as she took a seat in the rocking chair.

"You will be a big brother, Kio." She whispered, watching her son sleep contentedly in her arms. "Daddy and I conceived in late August, so in seven months, your new little brother or sister will arrive. I pray to the Unnamed God I do not bear another son."

The little boy had shown that he also was afflicted with the disease his brother had- when he'd bumped into something while crawling a month ago, for he'd started crawling midway through six months- and had experienced the same symptoms his brother had. It had set both Elphaba and Trism on edge; clearly, none of her sons were immune to this disease, and all the young royal could do was pray that her sons would heal quickly and suffer little. She had spent her childhood listening to her brother's cries and screams from the pain, and the last thing she wanted was for her sons to experience the same pain as their uncle had.

 _"Trism doesn't mind that you're pregnant again?"_ She looked up, meeting Sophelia's gaze. _"I'd be worried if I were him."_

She chuckled softly. "We discussed it. If I'm willing, he's willing. Besides, he wants a big family."

 _"But eight children? Even Mama and Papa decided that five was enough."_

"Because they finally had their son." Elphaba whispered, and after a moment, Sophelia nodded. "Once Shell was born, they stopped. They didn't need to try anymore."

 _"And you and Trism do? Fabala, you have already_ proven _that you can conceive and bear children. And you have given birth to two sons. There is no need to try anymore."_

"We're not trying, Elia. It just happens. Besides, I quite enjoy the act of making them." Her sister made a face, cringing.

 _"On all fours like a_ dog. Disgusting. _Mama did not raise you to act like a mongrel off the street, Fabala. You're a_ princess." She watched her little sister's cheeks flush red.

"And an empress, as well as a queen, Elia. Or have you forgotten?" Her sister had the decency to look ashamed. "Had you lived, I think you would have enjoyed the act as well."

 _"Nessa was alive, and she did not enjoy it."_ Sophelia whispered, and Elphaba took a deep breath.

"Nessa was taken by a grown man against her will." Elphaba replied, her little sister's screaming ringing in her head. She'd known what was happening, even though she hadn't looked back. She would never forget her sister's screams as long as she lived.

 _"And you are different to Nessa."_ She nodded at her sister's glare. _"Of course you are. You are doing this of your own will, becoming with child and then bearing them, like a-"_

 _"A breeding cow."_ Both sisters turned to Oziandra, arms crossed over her chest. _"Honestly Fabala, you are going to wear your body out-"_

"All I ever wanted was to be a mother, Raina, you know that. I wanted thirty children. I may not become a mother to thirty, but I will become a mother to eight." She stood, returning her sleeping prince to his crib, a hand moving to caress her belly once she straightened. Already, she was starting to show. "I want these children, Raina. I want them more than I've ever wanted anything. I want to raise them differently to how we were raised, and watch them grow into their own personalities and their own minds. I want to watch them become men and women of their times, like we would have been, had we all survived. I will not make the same mistakes with my children that Mama made with us." She met her sister's gazes. "These are _my_ children. This is _my_ time. I..." She swallowed, tears in her eyes. "I will not allow myself to repeat Mama's mistakes." She felt her sisters' arms around her, holding her close.

* * *

She slowly cradled her belly, her sisters' words ringing in her head. Oziandra might be right; she might very well wear her body out, but she would wear her body out becoming what she had dreamed to be from the time she was a child- a mother. She would wear her body out growing and bearing the very things she had longed to have from age six. She loved her children- each with their own personality, including the twins- and she loved the baby growing within her.

"You are so loved, little one. Daddy and I, and your brothers and sisters, we all love you and we will always love you. You will never lack or want for love, not ever. I promise. We will love you forever. _I_ will love you until I draw my last breath, and even after, I will love you. You will never lack for love in this home or this family."


	37. Chapter 37

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"Easy, Fabala, breathe. That's it, you're doing wonderfully, my love."

Seven months had quickly come and gone; her belly had grown and expanded as her child grew, and over the course of the pregnancy, the family had prepared for the birth- well, as best as anyone could, given five rambunctious children. For Kio had recently turned a year old, and Faola, five, with the other children turning four and three respectfully.

Her water had broken during dinner on the sixth of April; eight hours had passed since then, and the baby was just beginning to crown. Doctor Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos monitored the young queen religiously; when the stress of laboring was getting to be too much for the young mother, they helped her to her feet so she could walk around with the assistance of gravity. And when the desire to push became too strong, they helped her return to the birthing stool, Partra and Locasta each helping to hold her legs apart so she could focus on bearing down.

"I think this babe may be a little bigger than anticipated, Your Majesty." Midwife Ottokos informed them, as Elphaba pushed again.

 _"Great."_ She ground out, digging her nails into her husband's thighs as she pushed herself up and bore down. _"Why... are our children... always slightly... bigger than normal?"_

"I don't know, sweetheart." Trism whispered, kissing her hair.

"You should..." She took a deep breath. "It's... _science_..."

"Anatomy, actually." He replied, and she groaned. "Keep going, sweetheart. That's it."

"You were the one who wanted eight children, Fabala." Glinda replied, as her cousin dug her nails into her hand. "You should have stopped at five."

 _"Shut up, Glinda."_ She leaned back against Trism, gulping in air. "I don't think he's a little bigger than normal, he _is_ bigger than normal." She forced herself to sit up and bear down as hard as she could. "If this child is fourteen pounds, you are _so dead_ , Trism Tigelaar."

He paled. "You... still remember that story?"

"You _told her about Noria_." Locasta replied, a exasperated look crossing her features as she met her son's gaze.

"It was right after Faola had been born. I didn't know she'd want to have eight children- I thought we were going to have _two_ at most. The _last_ thing I expected was for my wife to want to become pregnant and give birth eight times."

 _"S... six."_ His wife ground out, pushing again. _"This... is our sixth, Tris. Keep it straight."_ Glinda giggled, but stopped as the young king glared at her.

"Either way, you're going to get your eight, Fabala. I know you. You want something, you usually get it." The blonde kissed her cousin's hand, smiling at the laboring young mother before she continued pushing.

"For the love of the Unnamed God, I need to walk. Help me up, please. I can't do this right now; I need to stand..." They helped her to her feet, and gently, Trism wrapped an arm around her waist, pacing back and forth with her. " _Oh... please, sweetheart... you need to come out... it's time..._ " She leaned against the foot board of the bed, swaying her hips back and forth, hoping the movement would help the baby to descend more into her pelvis. Though the baby was already crowning, the labor was slow; unlike his siblings, this one was definitely taking his time.

With a cry, Elphaba felt her knees give out, and she dropped to the ground as Trism caught her. He knelt beside her, massaging her lower back firmly but gently. The pressure helped relieve some of the pain, and also seemed to help in regards to the contractions. With a groan, she pushed, being careful so as not to overexert herself.

Finally, after several minutes, she felt a familiar burning sensation that soon went away as the head made its appearance. She looked up at Doctor Dillamond, holding out a hand. "Help me up, please. Help me back to the stool." Once she was on her feet, she stopped, squeezing both Doctor Dillamond and Trism's hands. _"Mmm... it's out... the head's out... I can feel it... between my legs..."_ She groaned, squeezing their hands again as they took a few more steps. _"He's coming..."_ Midwife Ottokos grabbed a couple towels, rushing to the trio, realizing that the young queen wasn't going to take another step- couldn't take another step- because the baby was working its way out of her. Gently, she pushed the light shift Elphaba wore up; Trism and Doctor Dillamond held it without complaint.

"You're right, Your Majesty, this babe is certainly coming. His shoulder is working its way out as we speak- _push! That's it!_ "

The others watched in silence, not making a move towards her, knowing that other than Dillamond, Trism and the midwife, Elphaba didn't want to be touched. She groaned, pushing again, feeling the second shoulder pop out. Two more good, strong pushes, and the baby came sliding out into Midwife Ottokos's arms, a healthy cry greeting his parents. "Oh, Fabala, he's beauitful." Trism pressed a firm kiss to her temple, and gently, Doctor Dillamond released her, moving to help the midwife clean and sever the baby from his mother as the sac made its appearance.

But the joyous occasion was silenced by the look on the midwife's face as, after wrapping the sac in a towel to be taken out and buried later, she worked on clipping the cord that tethered mother to son. "What is it? Midwife Ottokos?" The older woman slowly turned to the young royals. _"What is it?"_ Without a word, she severed the two, and glanced at Dillamond, who held the baby. It was Dillamond who spoke, as Trism helped his wife to their bed after she'd been cleaned up. As he laid the baby in his mother's arms, the good doctor whispered,

"He has the disease, Your Majesty."


	38. Chapter 38

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _"Where the doctor severed us... hours after birth... the first sign that your brother was affected."_

Her mother's words came back to her as she stared at the baby now cradled in her arms, suckling at her breast. Tears gathered in her eyes, and she turned when Trism laid a hand against her arm. "It's not your fault, Fabala. You can't stop what's predetermined."

 _"Papa said that."_ She whispered, and he pressed a firm kiss to her forehead.

"This doesn't mean that we will love him any less than his brothers or sisters." Trism whispered, pulling her close. "It just means we need to be more cautious, more diligent, with all three of them." He pressed a kiss to her head as she turned her gaze back to the baby, who looked up at her with wide, unfocused blue eyes. His black hair was curly, like his siblings' had been at birth, and he nursed hungrily at his mother's breast, unaware of the pain the discovery after his birth was causing his parents. "They will never lack for love, _never_. This disease is _not_ going to define how we raise them. I won't let it."

"You can't stop it, Trism." She replied, sniffling, and gently, he wiped a tear off her cheek.

"But we can _control_ it, Fabala. We can monitor it. Already, we know more about this disease than your parents did; we know that our daughters are carriers like you, that our sons are affected, and that _so far_ , rest and warm poultices help to ease the pain. We've seen it, with both Kio and Chiss. We can manage this, Fabala. We just need to be diligent."

He rested his forehead to hers, knowing the pain in her heart because it mirrored the pain in his. That his children had to suffer like this-

He took a deep breath; no, this wasn't Elphaba's fault. She was simply a carrier; she had no say as to whether or not her children received this disease and suffered from it. No, his wife was not to blame. The blood she carried in her veins, the very same blood that had supplied their son with nutrients during her pregnancy, was to blame; it was the blood that tainted her family, that had made her brother so sick, that was making their sons so sick now.

It was the blood.

 _Royal blood destroys royal houses._

He chuckled softly. God, all those years ago, at that luncheon, his wife had been right. His beautiful, brilliant wife had stunned everyone, but she'd been right.

"We'll get through this, Fabala. We got through the loss of our first child; that nearly tore us apart, but we didn't let it. We won't let this try to do the same. We'll get through this."

"But so soon... with his brothers... it was nearly..."

"I know, my queen. I know." He kissed her gently, before proceeding to kiss away her tears; his lips brushed against her forehead, and he took a deep breath. "We just need to keep our heads up. Okay?" She nodded, as the bedroom door opened and Glinda entered, having left to get the children.

* * *

Trism cradled the week-old infant in his arms; the baptism in Fliaan had taken place on Monday, three days after the baby had been born, and now they stood in the church in the Vinkus, listening silently as the priest anointed the infant's forehead.

"... His Imperial Highness, Prince Varderyn Sciell Cavalish Tigelaar..."

The baby stared up at his father, fussing softly as the oil was brushed against his head. The baby's siblings gathered around; Faola, as the oldest, understood the gravity of the situation, and stayed silent as she stood by her father's side; when the three youngest got rowdy, it was Faola's quick glare that made them stop. As the oldest child, Faola took her duties as big sister extremely seriously, and that meant keeping the others under control.

After the ceremony, the family made their way to the balcony so the people could see the young prince, and Elphaba kept a tight hold on both Chiss and Kio's hands, while Faola held tight to her sisters'. The cheering and excitement from the crowd was both overwhelming and exciting; it had taken years, but Elphaba was finally able to accept that the crowds were thrilled to have her as their queen- that they didn't look on her as an outsider, but as one of them.

For decades, the alliance between the Vinkus and Fliaan had been strong; there had once been talk of a betrothal between Elphaba and the oldest Vinkun prince, Fiyero, but when the Fliaanian royal family had been disposed of... yes, the Vinkus had mourned the loss of the royal family- especially the possible slaughter of innocent children- but they had also understood that things like this happened all the time. And when Elphaba had finally been found... she had been in the peoples' thoughts from the moment of her return to Fliaan.

So to have her as their queen, married to their young king, the mother of six beautiful children... a tiny part of the Vinkun people believed that had she and her family been allowed to be exiled, that they would have survived. Many agreed that the Vinkun royals should have taken the Fliaanian royals in- as Locasta had told her daughter-in-law that day- and perhaps the tragedy that was the Fliaanian royal family would have been avoided.

"Are they happy to see us, Mama?" Elphaba turned to her oldest.

"They're very happy to see us, Faola. And they're very happy to finally meet your baby brother."

The little girl was silent for several minutes, before turning back to her. "Do they love us, Mama?"

A soft sigh escaped her mother's throat, and after a moment, she knelt down beside her oldest. "They love us all very, very much, my little wolf. Just as we love them."


	39. Chapter 39

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

She leaned against the railing of the balcony, the September sun warm on her skin. It didn't seem possible that she had given birth to _six_ children, all before turning thirty a couple weeks before. They had had a quiet party for her with only family- Partra had come down from the City, and Glinda and her parents had come from Gillikin, while Locasta had come up from the Vinkus for the special day. Now, though, Elphaba spent some time alone, enjoying the peace and quiet, for the children were out playing in the garden; she could see them from her balcony. Locasta held five-month-old Ryn, as the family called the youngest prince, and she, Partra and Glinda's parents watched as Trism and Glinda chased the other children through the piles of leaves that had built up over the last month.

 _Despite everything, how did I get this lucky?_

A moment passed before she hurried back inside to grab something before returning to the balcony. Without a word, she quickly set her small candy-box camera up, aiming it at the sight before her, snapping several photographs in a matter of minutes, as the new cameras were able to do. At one point, Faola looked up, rushing towards the balcony. "Mama! Mama!"

Elphaba chuckled, waving to her daughter from her place as she snapped photographs of her children in excitement. She remembered the aerial photographs that Melena would take when standing on her balcony; the images of her and her sisters staring up at her in their summer dresses or nice coats, if they were going out to visit someone or playing in the gardens of the Winter Palace, as well as the grainy footage of her and her sisters dancing with sailors or roller skating on board her father's yacht, _The Grimmerie._ Oh, how she missed those days...

"What are you thinking about, my birthday girl?"

She grinned as Trism slipped his arms around her shoulders; so caught up in her thoughts was she that she hadn't noticed her husband slip back into the palace and make his way upstairs and into her boudoir. After a moment, she turned, nudging her nose against his. "Just wondering exactly how I got to be so lucky. Returned to my home, I'm ruling my country- through Parliament, but still- I'm married to a _wonderful_ man, and I have _six_ _beautiful_ children to raise... what did I do to deserve any of this? By rights, I should be dead, buried with the rest of my family, wherever they were placed after the massacre."

"But you survived, Fabala, you survived." He whispered, kissing her temple.

* * *

 _"Mama! Mama it hurts! Mama, make it stop! Please!"_

 _She covered her ears, trying desperately to block out Shell's cries of pain; without a word, she curled into Oziandra's arms. The older princess turned to Sophelia, who held Nessa close; the four princesses had been ordered out of the room once Yackle had arrived, and sat huddled in their playroom in front of the fire, prayers falling from their lips, as they awaited any news of their brother's condition. Would this be it? Would this be the night when their brother would officially die? Would Shell draw his last breath, and leave them alone forever, no longer a quintet, but a quartet, forever uncompleted with his passing?_

 _"Mama!"_

She bolted upright, a scream tearing her from her sleep; it took a couple moments to realize that the screaming was no longer in her memory, but in her home-

Without a word, she climbed out of bed, following Trism as he bolted from the room; the cries brought Glinda, her parents, Locasta and Partra as well as Cattery and the rest of the household from their sleep. All except for Ryn were up, for the baby was still sound sleep in his bassinet in the nursery. Silently, Elphaba and Trism pushed through those gathered outside of Chiss's room. Faola was sitting beside her brother on the bed, holding tight to him. The four-year-old boy had tears in his eyes, and he was crying.

 _"What happened? Faola!"_

The five-year-old sniffled. "He... fell today..." Elphaba turned to her husband.

"He fell into some leaves... he was fine, I checked, Fabala-"

 _"Obviously he isn't fine! Go get Doctor Dillamond! Now!"_ Without a word, her husband rushed to do as told, taking Cattery with him, as Elphaba climbed onto the bed and pulled her oldest son into her arms.

"Are you angry with me, Mama?" Faola asked, voice small, eyes wide with tears. Elphaba shook her head.

"No, love. You stayed with your brother, like you should have. You were a good girl, my little wolf, a _very, very good girl_."

 _"Mama..."_

"Shh, baby, it's okay. I'm here. It'll be okay..." She held her son close, her mind flashing back to her little brother, and the nights filled with fear that they would wake up the next morning and he would be gone.

 _"Mama, when I am dead, build me a little monument of stones out in the woods."_

"You'll be okay, sweetheart. You'll be okay." She whispered, pressing soft kisses to his head, her gaze meeting Melena's across the room. Tears glimmered in the former empress's eyes, and she swallowed thickly, turning her head. _You... you cursed my children with this disease. All of them. Like you cursed my siblings and I._

 _It wasn't me, Fabala. The one who cursed us is Ozma herself, my grandmother. She passed it on to me through my mother, her daughter, and I in turn passed it onto you and you onto your children. I did not curse you. I was cursed long before you even existed._

She turned as Trism finally burst back into the room with Doctor Dillamond, Midwife Ottokos and Cattery in tow.

 _"What is everyone else doing here?"_ Elphaba demanded, finally realizing that the rest of the household were standing in the doorway, watching.

"Chiss's cries brought the rest of the household as well as us, my queen." Her husband whispered, and she shook her head. "They want to make sure our little prince is-"

 _"Tell them to go away!"_ She demanded, and after a moment, her husband did as told. Glinda nodded, taking her niece's hands as Manek scooped Kio into his arms; after a moment, Faola did as her father asked, slipping out of the room; Illnora took the little girl by the hand- they decided the best place to be would be down in the kitchens, as far from the pain and fear as possible. Once gone and the door closed, Trism returned to his wife's side; she held Chiss close, whispering softly to him, like her mother used to do to Shell.

* * *

"How did no one catch the bleed?" Trism shook his head, lost in thought. Warm poultices had been applied, and Doctor Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos were monitoring the little boy religiously; they'd asked Cattery, Elphaba and Trism to return to bed, promising to come get the young royals if anything changed. But instead of going to bed, the king and queen had fled to the Cerulean Room.

"I _swear_ to you, Fabala, as soon as I realized Chiss had fallen, I checked him over; I asked multiple times if he hurt or if there was pain, and he said no. I even had Dillamond look him over, but there was nothing. The most I can think, is that it was a slow bleed- one that took the rest of the day, and finally bled enough that it made its presence known tonight. Those types of bleeds have been known to happen with this disease."

"Shell would suffer from slow bleeds frequently. They were always the worst kind." She whispered, joining her husband on the sofa and curling into him. She rested her head on his lap, tears filling her eyes. "What if he dies, Tris? I couldn't bear to lose another-"

"He's not going to die, Fabala-"

"You don't know that-"

"I know that he's strong. That he's a fighter, like his mother. He won't leave us, not like this, not this young." Gently, Trism stroked his fingers through his wife's hair, praying silently that he was right.

Three hours later, Cattery came to fetch the young royals, and they found both Midwife Ottokos and Doctor Dillamond outside Chiss's bedroom. "We've managed to slow the bleeding, and he's resting now. We're going to take turns monitoring him tonight, and if anything happens, we'll let you both know. He needs rest and poultice applications." The young couple nodded, Elphaba curling into Trism's arms. "If he gets worse, then we'll figure out what to do, but for now, we've got it under control. Get some rest, Your Majesties. Midwife Ottokos and I will monitor the young prince tonight."

* * *

After several weeks in bed, with warm poultices applied, Chiss recovered, though he was much more careful when playing with his siblings, and Trism and Elphaba kept a closer eye on the little boy, as well as his brothers. By the time the new year rolled around, Kio and Ryn both had suffered attacks like their brother had, which set both young parents on edge. So it was around late January-early February when the family finally decided to spend some time in the Vinkus; the boys were recovering- a lot better than Shell had ever recovered after an attack, Elphaba noted- and now that they were doing better, the family was able to return to Kiamo Ko for a while.

In fact, Locasta had suggested the young pair take some time away from the children, and spend a few days at Rigmarole. After much debate, the couple agreed, knowing that Locasta was most likely right, and that some time away would be good for them in the long run.

"I still remember the week we honeymooned here. We spent days swimming in the lake, and going down to the village, watching the stars at night-"

"And that food fight, with the pastries from the bakery." She blushed, as he set a cup of coffee before her.

"We were covered by the end of it." She admitted, sipping her coffee as he joined her at the table.

"And we ended up making love and consummating our marriage that night also." She nodded. "And..." His blue gaze met hers, as he leaned close. "If I were to venture a guess, I'd say it was also the night we created our lost little one."

She swallowed. "I have no doubt that we did." Their lips met in a soft kiss, and after a moment, he stood, pulling her to her feet and tugging her towards the bedroom.


	40. Chapter 40

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

She sighed, resting a hand against her abdomen. It had been a complete accident, making love that night; they'd only intended on curling into bed and talking, for the bed was covered in blankets, and the warmth from the fireplace in the front of the lodge had made the back where the bedrooms were just the right temperature. They had never intended-

"I didn't intend for this to happen again."

Midwife Ottokos glanced at her, as she laid the sheet over the young empress's body. "We don't intend for a lot of things to happen, Your Majesty, they just do. Legs up for me, please."

"No, I mean, I didn't intend to get pregnant again. After the discovery with Ryn... we decided to stop trying. Although we don't even have to try."

The older woman chuckled; when the young ruler had requested an examination, it had startled her. The former _Kauri_ was healthy; though she was a carrier, she suffered from hemorrhages very little- on very rare occasions, actually- and she hadn't been sick as of late. And then the midwife had realized _exactly_ why the young empress was asking, and it became even more evident when she arrived.

Once more in condition, the young royal was.

"Consider it a blessing, Your Majesty, that you can bear as many children as you have."

"A blessing? You mean a curse, when half the children I bear carry the disease I do, and the other have suffer from it."

"Medicine becomes more advanced every day. We may well find a cure for the disease before you know it."

Elphaba shook her head. "Not before my sons have died from it and my daughters have passed it on to their children." She took a deep breath, turning to study the early-June sunshine coming in through the bedroom window.

"Five months along I would say." Midwife Ottokos told her, rising. She then moved around to press gently at her belly. "Twins."

 _"What?"_ Elphaba lifted her head, a look of horror in her eyes. "That _can't_ be right-" The older woman turned to her.

"I've delivered many women, Your Majesty. You were not the first to bear twins- though you may be the first to bear two sets. Twins run in your family, yes?"

"Y... yes..." She laid her head back against the pillow. "My... my aunt and uncle on my father's side were fraternal... and... one of my great-great aunts on my mother's side had identical twin sons..." She shook her head. "Twins... do you know if they're healthy?"

"From what I can tell, yes, Your Majesty."

"And you're _sure_ it's twins?"

The midwife chuckled, gently pressing against the upper side of her belly. "One babe is here." She moved her hands down, pressing gently against the lower side. "And one is here. They are not hiding like your daughters did." Elphaba nodded, knowing that she was referring to her now four-year-old daughters.

"Daughters or... sons?"

"I cannot tell you that, Your Majesty. You will only discover that upon their births."

"What... what about the... the pendulum-"

"An old parlor trick to amuse children desperately waiting to meet their siblings, Your Majesty. There is no more science in using a pendulum to predict a child's gender before it's born than there is in using an apple skin to predict your true love." The young royal blushed, for she and her sisters had all used peeled apple skins to try and predict their true love's first initial as children. The midwife helped the young woman sit up, brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. "Your babes will be here a month early; September I suspect, not October like originally thought. Twins tend to come earlier than expected- perfectly healthy, but earlier."

"I remember." Elphaba whispered, her mind going back to the night in May when her daughters had been born- and everyone thought that she would give birth in June. "What do you suggest?"

"Plenty of rest, Your Majesty. Very little travel. Even to Parliament and back can cause a strain that would be better avoided."

"High risk?"

Midwife Ottokos shook her head. "Were you high risk, you would not leave this bed at all. You are not high risk. You simply need to be careful. Eat plenty as well. And in three months, you should have two healthy babes in your arms."

"Thank you, Midwife." The older woman nodded, going to the door. Unsurprised to find Trism waiting anxiously on the other side, she chuckled.

"You will soon be the father of twins again, Your Majesty." He swallowed, nodding silently, nibbling on a fingernail. He'd suspected when Elphaba had realized she was pregnant, and watching her grow over the last five months, it had certainly been a possibility, but he'd honestly, hoped he'd be wrong. Guess not. After a moment, he rushed into the room, hurrying to the bed.

"Are you okay?" He asked, taking her face in his hands, and she nodded. "Good." He rested his forehead to hers, trying to calm his racing heart. "How did we end up in this position again, Fabala?"

"You know _very well_ how, Trism. You can't control your appetites." She replied, shoving him gently. He scoffed.

"And you can't control yours. I am just as much to blame as you-"

"Don't you _dare_ -"

"Mama? Daddy?" They turned, to find Havni in the doorway with Ryn. "Grandmama is here." The two shared a look, before realization dawned.

"I was supposed to pick her up at the station-" Without a word, he helped his wife to her feet, and then rushed from the room. Elphaba chuckled softly, going to her daughter.

"Daddy was so concerned with me, he completely forgot about Grandmama." She knelt, scooping Ryn into her arms and taking the little girl's hand. "Shall we go greet Grandmama, loves? And tell her our good news?"

* * *

The sight of her husband being chastised by his mother- not so much for not meeting her at the station, but for disregarding the fact that they had planned for her to come visit for months and that it evidently was of so little importance- was a sight that made Elphaba laugh, and she needed a laugh, after the day she'd had. Finally deciding to put her husband out of his misery, she spoke up. "I'm sorry, Mother, but it's my fault. Trism was going to come get you, but I had an appointment with the midwife, and, well, the discovery that we are going to bear twins again threw him for a loop."

Locasta turned, startled to see Elphaba standing before her, but it soon gave way to shock. "Twins? Again?" Her daughter-in-law nodded, adjusting her hold on her youngest. The dowager queen made her way to her daughter-in-law, pulling her into a hug, and Trism watched with the air of a chastised child as his mother seemingly managed to completely forget about him in favor of his wife- something that he couldn't figure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

* * *

"Five months along with twins and she _still_ manages to put the fear of the Unnamed God into her oldest while balancing her youngest on her hip. I don't see how Her Majesty does it all."

Cata chuckled; she had had many more years with the young royal than Cattery had, many years that included watching the young empress grow up- and still, many years of not knowing if her mistress and her family had been murdered, held hostage, gotten out, or simply vanished. The missing royals of Fliaan was and would remain one of Fliaan's most talked about legends.

Yes, one daughter had managed to survive, but until the bodies were found, those questions would always remain. Only Elphaba knew the truth; and though she had told Cata of the happenings in the House of Special Purpose, the cook took them with a grain of salt, knowing that only bodies would back up Elphaba's statements.

"She is a special woman, Cattery. Seen so much, lived through so much, and still... she hasn't allowed the pain of losing her family break her. She is stronger than her mother- the Unnamed God rest her soul, wherever it be- ever was."

"Do you miss them?" The young maid asked, glancing at the older woman.

"I miss them like flowers miss the sun in winter, Cattery. They were my family, the only family I truly had. The family I came from... it was not a family."

 _"Cata! We are playing tea. Would you join us, please?"_

 _"I do not belong in my own family, Cata. I am the third daughter, the one best forgotten."_

 _"It's better to be the third and forgotten than the only child and forgotten, Your Highness."_

 _"Say you'll come with us, Cata. Wherever they are taking us, please do not make us go without you! You're family!"_

 _"Be strong, Kauris, you must be strong, for your Mama and Papa and brother."_

 _"And you, Cata. We must be strong for you."_

"From the time they were born, those girls understood their place and mine; and yet they still looked past it- at times they were no more princesses than I was a maid. Regardless of status, they were girls who saw the good in everyone." She sighed, turning to go back into the kitchen. "Come on, we'd best get back to work."


	41. Chapter 41

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

"Cattery? Were is the cook?"

A moment passed before Cata came back into the kitchen. "Is there something specific you would like, Your Majesty?"

Elphaba shook her head. "Actually, I have a favor to ask. Of both of you." The young maid glanced at the cook, who simply shook her head. A moment passed before the young empress reached out, taking the older woman's hand. "You have been with my family since I was a mere child, Cata-"

"Since before you were born, Your Majesty." Elphaba chuckled softly.

"And... even when everything fell apart, you still stayed."

"You were my family, Your Majesty; you were the only true family I had. It wouldn't have been right for me to abandon you, when you all had been so kind to me."

Elphaba nodded, watching as the cook gently stroked her hand.

 _"Shh, it'll be all right, Kauri. Everything shall be fine."_

 _"But what if it isn't, Cata? What if something terrible happens?"_

 _The young maid gently stroked the girl's hand, holding her close. Had Frexpar still been Samraat, this would not have been allowed, but since the family had been stripped of their royal status, it simply did not matter anymore; a former princess was on the same standing as a maid now, in the eyes of the revolutionaries. "Then you must be strong, Kauri. You must not show weakness or fear."_

 _"I'm not a Kauri anymore, Cata."_

 _"You will always be a Kauri, no matter your station in life, Elphaba Frexparia."_

She gently squeezed the older woman's hand. "And now you are with my family again. Not my true family, but-"

"Your family is your family, Your Majesty. It is simply the next generation, the children you and your husband have borne. That is all. Family will not always remain the same, because generations will come and generations will go. Now what did you wish to ask?"

The young empress nodded, taking a deep breath, resting her other hand against her belly. "You both know that I am carrying twins." Cattery nodded, unaware of where she was going with this. She had seen the look on her mother's face when she'd left that day, heard the news that Her Majesty was once more in condition, that there would be no surprises- twins it was confirmed and that confirmation would not change. "Well, my husband and I have talked it over," She bit her lip, worried about how both would take her request. "And we would like you both to be their godmothers."

"Oh, Your Majesty-" Cata pulled away from Elphaba in surprise.

Cattery had to have been hearing wrong- the empress of Fliaan wanted _her_ , a mere scullery maid, to be the godmother of one of the children she carried? _Her_ , a lowly member of the royal household that had done nothing but mess up and unintentionally cause chaos wherever she went? Be the _godmother_ of one of the royal children? There was no way she had just heard that correctly.

After a moment, the girl took a seat at the table, trying to catch her breath. "Why?" She tore her gaze from the wood, turning to her mistress. "We... we are nothing but servants, Your Majesty. We are not fit for any station higher in life than what we are, and certainly not-"

"Cattery," Elphaba moved around the table towards the maid, taking a seat beside her. "You have proven more loyalty to my husband and I than _half_ the royal household did when the revolution hit and my family was stripped of everything." Cata nodded; she remembered the men and women who had fled after the royal family was stripped of their titles- some of their most loyal servants, who had been with the family for years upon years, suddenly cared not for the children they had helped raise or the household they had worked in and left, often taking trinkets or items that had belonged to the once-royal family with them, to sell in the streets. It was as if years of loyalty and service- on both the household's side and the royal family's- meant nothing anymore, and they were simply a wealthy family to steal from, as nameless as those on the streets. "You and Cata have more than proven your loyalty over the years- with kindness, with love and acceptance and respect- and my husband and I can think of no better way to repay that than asking you both of this. Please."

"But... but I am a _maid_ , Your Majesty, what will the rest of the household think, what will anyone think-"

"That you are a good person, with a good heart, and that you have earned the trust of your employers, that they would trust you with the care of their children. Cattery, when my husband and I cannot look after them, we always turn to you. They love you, they _adore_ you, as my sisters and brother and I adored Cata." She met the older woman's gaze with a smile. "I will not ask anyone else if you do not agree. My husband understands that and he agrees with me."

"But there are hundreds of other royals-"

"I do not want other royals looking after my children. I want _you, both_ of you." She pulled away, crossing her arms over her chest. "And I will not move until you both agree."

"Your Majesty, you need your rest-"

"I have gotten plenty of rest. I'm fine, the babies are fine. I'm not moving. Not until you both tell me yes."

The maid glanced at the cook, before turning back to the empress. "Of course I will, Your Majesty." Cata replied, tears in her eyes. Elphaba smiled softly at her.

"Thank you, Cata." She turned to the young maid. "And you, Cattery?"

"It would be most improper-"

"I have spent the early years of my life being a proper princess, Cattery. Never had I been so bored. I guess that's why Nessa always acted the way she did. She realized propriety was boring, and chose to be the opposite." Cata chuckled, remembering the chaos the youngest princess would often cause. A moment passed, before slowly, Cattery nodded. "Yes?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

If the girl had been stunned by Elphaba's request, she was struck dumb when the young empress pulled her into a hug.


	42. Chapter 42

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

 _"Mama! Mama!"_

Without a word, the young maid rushed from the house to the waiting car. "The Winter Palace, Malky. _Hurry._ "

Upstairs, the dowager queen rushed to her daughter-in-law's side. "Shh, hush Fabala, breathe. That's it. You have done this before, darling, remember? And you know that there is more than one coming this time. There are no surprises this time around."

The young empress shook her head, crying out in pain as another contraction struck. _"Mama, it hurts! Make it stop!"_

"Breathe through the pain, darling. That's it. That's a good girl. Trism, _where the hell is Cattery?_ "

"She already left to fetch Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos." Her son replied, hurrying to his wife's side. The early-afternoon September sunlight cast shadows across the floor of the bedroom; in two weeks, Elphaba would turn thirty-one, and officially be a mother to eight. But at that moment, all Elphaba wanted was her mother- be it her mother or mother-in-law- and her husband, to know she wasn't going through this alone. "That's it, my darling. We're right here; we're all right here."

By the time Cattery returned with her mother and Dillamond, Elphaba was already in transition. The blankets of their bed had been pushed down and she was leaning back against the multitude of pillows; unlike her last births, the pain had kept her from getting up and moving around, instead she was confined to the bed, as she had been the last couple weeks.

Without a word, Dillamond and Midwife Ottokos set to work, checking her temperature, her blood pressure, that everything was as all right as it could be-

 _"For the love of the Unnamed God-"_

"What? Midwife, _what's wrong?_ " Locasta demanded, but the look on the woman's face told her all she needed to know. _Blood in the water._

But before anyone else could react, Elphaba bore down, her body unable to wait any longer. Minutes passed, before the first infant slid into the midwife's arms, and she quickly laid the baby in Doctor Dillamond's arms. The child's strong cry temporarily drew the young royals from the task at hand. "The other one is coming, Your Majesty. I can see the head. You have to push!"

Elphaba shook her head. _"I can't... I don't... have the strength..."_

A soft cry drew Midwife Ottokos from her task, and she turned to her daughter, who had covered her mouth in shock. When she turned back, she realized why.

Blood, staining the sheets, the white of Elphaba's shift, her legs. Suddenly, Midwife Ottokos realized that the blood and the rupture of the sac had nothing to do with one another; the sac had been fine- the babies were fine, it was their mother in danger. She was hemorrhaging...

The empress's dark gaze shifted to her husband, and she gently brushed her fingers against his cheek. "Save our baby... not me..."

"No. _No, Fabala, listen to me!_ We've come so far... we're not going to let it end like this... _you_ are _not_ going to let it end like this... you need to _fight, Fabala!_ You're strong-"

"I love you-"

 _Go back, Fabala. It's not your time. You're not allowed here._ Her family stood before her, as healthy as they'd been before the revolution had ended their lives. _You have another child to bring into the world, a country to rule, a family to take care of._

 _All I want is to be with you, Mama._

 _I know, darling. But it's not your time. You weren't meant to die in that basement with the rest of us, and you are not meant to die now, not in childbirth. Now go back. Your husband and your children need you. Go back._

" _Come back to me, Fabala!_ _I'm not going to let you leave me like this- not when we've survived so much!_ You _need to fight..._ you need to come back and meet your children-"

She took a deep breath, and after a moment, sat up with Trism and Locasta's help. No one questioned what had happened, no one said a word, they simply focused on the task at hand. She bore down as hard as she could, feeling the baby work its way out of her body. Another strong push, followed by another, and another, until finally-

A strong, healthy cry reached their ears, and she choked on a sob, as Trism pressed a kiss to her temple. "You did it, my love. The Unnamed God, I thought I'd lost you." She rested her forehead to his, as the midwife quickly checked the baby over before moving to hand the baby to Dillamond. Once the placenta appeared, she quickly wrapped it in a towel, and then focused on Elphaba. The hemorrhaging was slowing down, but she had still lost a lot of blood.

"You have a daughter, Your Majesty." Cattery whispered, moving to the side of the bed, the first baby cradled in her arms.

"And a son." Midwife Ottokos added, before turning to Dillamond. "We need to get her to the bath, quickly. Cattery, fetch as much ice as you can carry. Hurry, love, hurry." The maid gently laid the little girl in her grandmother's arms, and rushed to do as told. "Her Majesty is hemorrhaging. We need to get her into an ice bath, _now_." Nodding, Trism stood, helping his wife to her feet; her kneels buckled, and the midwife rushed to help. Partra, who had been downstairs with the other children, came upstairs when she saw Cattery rush past.

"Elphaba, is everything- what is going on?" But Dillamond laid the baby boy in her arms.

"Your granddaughter is hemorrhaging, Your Majesty. We need to get her into an ice bath as soon as possible to stop it." Suddenly it was clear why Dillamond was handing her the baby, and she nodded. Ten minutes later, Cattery came upstairs with a couple other maids in tow, all carrying buckets filled with chunks of ice. The water in the tub was started, and Elphaba, still in her shift, was helped into it; the ice was soon added, and the young mother cried out in surprise. Trism paced nervously back and forth, horrified as the water tinged pink.

 _"What if it doesn't stop? What if I lose her?"_

"It's slowing down now, Your Majesty. The ice helps. I've used it before on mothers who have hemorrhaged during birth." The older woman gently slid a cube of ice along the young mother's forehead. "That's it, Your Majesty, slow, deep breaths. It'll stop soon. Deep breaths, good girl." She turned to the young king. "No more, Your Majesty! We can stop the hemorrhaging this time, but the next time we might not be so lucky! Another child may very well kill her! You nearly lost her with these two, you just might lose her with the next one. I have watched plenty of husbands bury their wives after the birth of a child. _Do not become one of them!_ "

"I didn't even _want_ this pregnancy. Fabala was the one that wanted it. She refused to change her mind on this."

"I... have always wanted children... I was not... going to let my husband... take this away from me..." Elphaba whispered, meeting her husband's gaze, and he knew she was right. They'd argued repeatedly in regards to this pregnancy; Trism was perfectly happy with the children they had, but Elphaba hadn't wanted to terminate this pregnancy- they were her children, after all-

"If I'd known this pregnancy would nearly kill you, I would have put my foot down." She shook her head.

"I would still have told you no."

The young man ran a hand through his hair. "It almost seems like the best course of action would be to gut you completely, my queen."

She turned away from him. "Like a _fish_."

A moment passed, before he knelt beside her, reaching out to brush her hair off her cheek. "Fabala, I nearly lost my wife, don't you understand? I _nearly lost you_ tonight. I won't risk it again." She met his gaze. "My children nearly lost their mother. The Vinkus nearly lost their queen and Fliaan their empress... Fabala, _please_. You have your eight, like you wished. Darling, please. At least consider it."

She sighed, taking his hand; she would _consider_ it, but that was all. "I want to see my children."


	43. Chapter 43

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.- Licia**

Once the sheets had been changed, and Midwife Ottokos and Doctor Dillamond checked to make sure the bleeding had slowed- the ice had stopped it completely- they helped the young mother out of the bath. After helping her into a clean nightgown, they led her on shaky legs out of the bathroom; without a word, Trism scooped her up and carried her back to their bed, where Partra and Locasta waited, each holding one of the twins.

After making sure she was tucked securely beneath the sheets, Trism joined her, watching as Partra gently laid the boy in his mother's arms, before accepting the little girl. "Oh, they're _beautiful_." Elphaba nudged her husband's shoulder. He turned to her.

"Our son looks like you. Sandy hair and all." The young king shook his head.

"His eyes are yours, my queen." He chuckled softly.

"Darakvala." She whispered, nodding to the baby girl in his arms. She had the same black hair as her mother, and her father's blue eyes. "And..." She thought a moment, turning to her husband.

"What are you doing, Fabala? You're supposed to wait until the baptism-"

"I nearly lost my life bringing them into the world, Grandmama. The last thing I am going to do is wait to reveal their names." The older woman nodded in understanding.

"Torulisian." The young queen met her husband's gaze. "It was my great-grandfather's name on my father's side. He was a brave, brave man, and a very good, strong king. I have very vague memories of him. He was the first to seek an alliance between the Vinkus and Fliaan, back in the eighteen-hundreds. He saw the value of uniting our two countries." She rested her forehead to his.

"It sounds like a wonderful name, my darling."

Before anyone could say anything else, the bedroom door opened fully, and Glinda entered with the other children in tow, Ryn balanced on her hip. Faola made a beeline for the bed, climbing up to join her parents. Chiss leaned against the side of the bed, blue eyes widening at the sight of the little girl in his father's arms. He didn't say a word, but it was evident that he clearly didn't know what to think of the baby. Fechín held tight to Kio's hand, as her sister climbed onto the bed, moving to study the little boy in her mother's arms.

"A _boy_?" The four-year-old wrinkled her nose, sitting back. Faola grabbed her little sister, pulling her back into her lap.

"And a girl." Trism replied. "You have a brother _and_ a sister. And it's going to be your jobs to help Mama and I. _All_ of you, are we clear?" Slowly, the children nodded, silent.

"Why is his hair a different color, Mama?" Elphaba glanced at her oldest, before meeting her husband's gaze.

"Because he looks like Daddy. It doesn't mean that we love him any less. We judge-"

"Only on what they do, not how they look." Faola replied; her mother's familiar mantra ringing loud and clear in the room.

"That's right, darling. No one should be judged because of the color of their skin. That's how countries fall to chaos, when you start singling out and punishing one race for how they look. It only leads to violence and terrible means to an end that doesn't need to happen."

Her husband chuckled softly, and she turned to him. "Out of the whole bunch, our last is the anomaly."

" _That_ is what I'm talking about." Elphaba replied, shoving her husband's shoulder gently.

"You have to admit, Fabala, it is kind of odd. Your youngest is the only one that _doesn't_ inherit the Thropp hair or Tigelaar eyes." Glinda added, setting Kio on the bed beside his sisters. "Your family was known for the black hair and dark eyes. Despite Aunt Melena's mahogany hair, you all inherited Uncle Frexpar's. The court will think you laid with another man."

Elphaba's dark eyes smoldered. "And they will be wrong, Glinda. They _know_ that he is Trism's."

"But what if they think he's-"

 _"Don't."_ The blonde covered her mouth at her cousin's growl. "Don't you _dare_ say that name or even _think_ it."

"I'm... I'm sorry, Fabala, I just..."

"My life was nearly destroyed because of him. He stole my first child from me, might as well have robbed me of my family... and if I ever see him again, I will not stop my husband next time." Trism glanced at her, before turning his gaze to the little girl in his arms.

"So, what shall we call them?" Locasta and Partra shared a glance, before finally understanding. "Any suggestions?" Faola glanced at her siblings, before turning back to her father. Why did it always fall to _her_ to nickname her siblings? Couldn't Mama and Daddy think for _themselves_?

"Vala." Trism raised an eyebrow.

"Vala?" She nodded. He glanced at his wife, who chuckled softly. "What do you think, little one?" The baby shifted, whimpering softly, as she wrapped her hand around her father's finger. "And your brother?"

The almost-six-year-old turned to her brother, wrinkling her nose in thought. "Ruli."

"Ruli? Well, that's one name I never thought I'd hear." The little girl lifted her head, a smile on her face.

* * *

A week later- after the Fliaanian baptism- the couple stood in the church in the Vinkus. Cata and Cattery, dressed in their finest, each held one of the twins as the babies were anointed. There had been a few whispers about the empress requesting the _hired help_ to be godmothers to her youngest children, but no one dared question it in front of her. And while the Fliaanian court turned up their noses, the Vinkun court understood.

For it was common in the Vinkus to ask the most capable, dependable person to be the godparent to a newborn child; thereby securing the greatest possibility of protection; fortunes came and went, but hard work meant a person- especially a child- would never go hungry.


	44. Chapter 44

**Rifiuto: Non Miriena**

 **A/N: Written: 2005, Found: 2018.**

 **So, just in case you need a timeline for the children:**

 **Faolana- "Faola"- born in October, 1929**

 **Chiashrán- "Chiss"- born in August, 1930**

 **Ahghavni and Fiachra- "Havni" and "Fechin"- born in May, 1931**

 **Kiónán- "** **Kió"** **\- born in January, 1933**

 **Varderyn- "Ryn"- born in April, 1934**

 **Darakvala and Torulisian- "Vala" and "Ruli"- born in September, 1935**

 **I know I should have put this like... midway through the story, but I _just_ found this little timeline or... birth order that she has for the kids in this story. So Elphaba and Trism have six children before she turns 30, and two children before she turns 31. I know it seems like a lot- which it is, especially by _today's_ standards- but back then it wasn't really uncommon to have a bunch of children, especially given the time period. So, for reference, this story takes place between 1929 and 1935. So the next starts after the new year, in '36. - Licia**

 _December, 1935_

They stared back at her, forever young; a mere memory now, while their bones lay somewhere only the Unnamed God knew, turning to dust as the years rolled by. At one time, they had been young, beautiful, vibrant children, with infectious laughter and sparkling eyes, who had the world at their feet and their every wish granted.

But that time had passed as quickly as it had come- in the cold metal and hot gunpowder of bullets, in the metallic taste of blood and the echoing silence of death.

She swallowed thickly, turning from the portrait and going to the double doors of her balcony. Subconsciously, she reached down, caressing her abdomen; Lurlinemas was fast approaching- a mere week away, and there was an air of excitement at Colwen Grounds. Her older children chattered excitedly about what Lurline would bring for them, and Trism had to constantly remind them that it wasn't about the gifts, but about spending time with those they loved. This being Vala and Ruli's first Lurlinemas, meant that their older siblings wanted to make it extra special for them.

 _To think, three months ago, you nearly lost your life bringing your last two into the world, and soon, they'll be experiencing their first Lurlinemas. Where has the time gone?_ Her arms wrapped around her waist, and she shut her eyes, turning from the glass and her reflection. For the briefest of periods, fear had filled her heart that her youngest child would not live to experience life, let alone this holiday. _If only I hadn't passed this onto him, or his brothers-_

 _You could not stop it, Fabala._ She looked up, to find her parents behind her in the glass. Her sisters and brother gathered around them; Shell held tight to Oziandra's hand, and Nessa was leaning against Sophelia's side. Tears slid down her cheeks as she met their gazes _. You cannot stop what is predetermined. You of all people know that._

 _But I wish I could have, Papa._ Tears slipped down her cheeks, filled her gaze, blurring the vision of her family. _Sweet Oz, I wish I could._ She choked on a sob, curling in on herself, shaking her head, her small body wracked with guilt over the disease she had passed down to her sons, the disease that had resided in her blood long before she herself had even been born.

 _Fabala, don't you understand, my darling? You can no more stop the sun from shining than a cat can stop hunting mice. It's order is only natural-_

 _Natural?_ Her head snapped up, and she met her mother's gaze. _How are my sons living with this... this curse... natural? How are my daughters carrying it natural? How am I passing it on to them natural? Is it natural for my children to live in fear of never getting hurt? Never having normal childhoods? Never experiencing other things children do, all because of what they carry in their blood? And what about when they get older? When they become adults and start having families themselves? Shall my daughters pass it onto their sons as I passed it onto mine? As you passed it onto Shell? And my sons? Will they even live to see adulthood?_

Sophelia reached out, laying a hand against her sister's shoulder, and after a moment, Elphaba reached up, covering her sister's hand with hers. _Fabala, do not think that-_

 _How can I not, when every bump or scrape or bruise my sons receive could cause them to bleed and leave them in immense pain? I remember the nights when Shell's screams would wake us up, Elia. And I have sat in my sons' rooms, in their beds, and held them, and comforted them as best I can, like Mama used to do with Shell. I've begged the Unnamed God not to take my children- he stole my first from me before he even had a chance to grow within my womb; how could I possibly think that he would leave me my other children when he stole my first without a second thought?_

The rest of her family started in shock, but Sophelia, ever the observant one of the family, simply slid her hand down her sister's arm before moving to caress her womb. _The day Fiyero came by?_ Elphaba nodded, confusion in her eyes. _We have always been with you, Fabala. We have seen everything- when we wish too._ She slid her other arm around her younger sister, resting her cheek against the young empress's shoulder. _And when Mama, Papa, Raina, Nessa or Shell were not with you, I was. What they have not seen, I have._ She pressed a kiss to her sister's shoulder. _I was there the day your baby died within your womb. I saw the blood that stained your hands and puddled on the floor, and were I still living, I could have killed Fiyero for stealing your child from you. I knew how much you wanted to be a mother-_

Sophelia pressed another soft kiss to her sister's shoulder, as the tears flowed freely down Elphaba's cheeks. _A piece of my heart died when my baby died, Elia-_

The oldest Thropp daughter lifted her head, meeting her sisters' gazes in the mirror. _You did not stop living after you lost your first child, and you cannot stop living now. Just as you cannot stop your children from living. Mama tried._ Melena had the decency to look ashamed. _But you're not Mama, Fabala. Your children are not us. You know more of this disease than Mama and Papa did when we were alive._ _You know that it was not mystics like Yackle that healed Shell, but rest and warm poultices. You and Trism rely on medicine, not magic, to save your sons._

Elphaba's gaze broke from her sisters', moving to her mother's. Melena sighed, glancing at each of her children in turn. _I relied too heavily on my faith, and it destroyed our country and our dynasty. I relied too heavily on Yackle to save our boy, and it's only fitting, the fate that befell your Papa and I, but you did not need to suffer the same, none of you. I hid this secret, from our people and the rest of our family, because I thought it would protect us, and in the end, it only served to destroy us faster._ She met Elphaba's dark eyes, reaching out to brush at the tears on her only surviving daughter's cheeks. _If you feel it's right, to keep this secret from the people, then do so, but it's your choice, your decision. Do not make my mistakes, Fabala. You are stronger than I ever was._

Elphaba studied her mother's gaze in the glass. Melena had very rarely in life admitted her faults to others; she was known to have written page upon page upon page in her diaries about the faults she carried and the mistakes she'd made. She had been a private person, quiet and distant around others, except her immediate family. And, Elphaba supposed, she had inherited some of her mother's traits, but not all. The young empress was known for admitting her faults and accepting her mistakes, before both the people of Fliaan and Parliament. But this... this... deadly family secret...

She had no doubt the people of Fliaan- and even the Vinkus- would sympathize, maybe even accept- for times were different now- that the health of their young princes were in constant jeopardy, but even if that were so, Elphaba didn't know that she could bear sharing such a heartbreaking secret with the world. For years, the blood disease had been her family's constant, shadowy companion; it had followed them everywhere, reminding them of their mortality and to treasure every moment that life had to offer. This disease that she passed onto her own children, that she carried within her own blood, was her constant reminder that life was precious, and that in a moment, everything could change.

Just as it had for her family, when they'd walked down those twenty-nine steps into the basement of the House of Special Purpose seventeen years earlier. She had been a mere girl of fourteen, the third daughter of the rulers of Fliaan, the only survivor of the now infamous Thropp Massacre. In the end, it had not been a disease from tainted blood that had destroyed her family, but hate. Pure, unadulterated hate.

She sniffled softly, studying her parents, her brother, her sisters, before taking Elia's hand and squeezing. A soft sigh escaped her throat, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her family was right; she was stronger than they had been. And in the end, it was her decision.

 _I cannot let it go, Mama. It's my blood that's tainted. My blood that's diseased. It's my family that suffers, my sons that live with it._ Trism's words from that long ago day in the throne room, after their engagement had been announced, came rushing back. _It's my secret, to share or to keep, for it runs through my veins. It's the reason I cherish every moment with my boys, because I do not know when I could lose them next. It's the reminder of my mortality. I can't let it go._

Sophelia shook her head. _Fabala-_

Elphaba's gaze darted to Shell, who reached out for her hand; she took it, squeezing gently before bringing it up and firmly kissing his palm, the way she used to when they were children. The siblings locked gazes for the briefest of moments, before the young empress rested her forehead to the cool glass of the door with a sigh. _Our tainted blood... our shameful family secret... died in that basement seventeen years ago._ She sniffled, closing her eyes. Slowly, she sank to her knees, soft sobs escaping her throat as her family slowly faded away at the sound of footsteps getting closer on the other side of the boudoir door. The knob turned and the door opened; a black-haired, blue-eyed five-year-old whirlwind bounded into the room.

"Mama!"

She looked up, a tiny smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as her oldest son threw himself into her arms. "Easy, my little love. We don't want you to get hurt." The boy wrapped his arms around neck, and she hugged him close.

"Why are you crying?"

Brown eyes met blue, and she sniffled, reaching up to brush the tears away, glancing back at her reflection. "I just... I miss _my_ Mama and Papa and my siblings. Lurlinemas was always special for us, and I'm sad that they aren't here to spend it with us and to get to know your baby brother and sister. I always miss my family around the holidays, that's all."

The boy nodded, mouth forming a small 'o' of surprise. He then cuddled into her chest, resting his head against her heart. "Can we get presents for them that they can open later?"

"No, darling. They're no longer on this earth with us." She kissed his head. "But I'll tell you what we can do." She pulled away, meeting his gaze. "Tonight, before we go to sleep, we can light a candle and put it in the window, and say a prayer for them. So that they know we're thinking of them. Does that sound good?" The boy nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck. She pressed a kiss to his hair, holding him close. "I love you, Chiashrán. I love you _so much_."

Her gaze met her family's in the glass, and she swallowed thickly, making it very clear where she stood on the issue. _Our blood... our family secret... it died in nineteen-eighteen. It died with my baby brother, Mama._

After a moment, she stood, scooping her son into her arms and settling the child on her hip. "Shall we go find Daddy and your brothers and sisters and see what they're up too?" The boy nodded, wrapping his arms around her neck as they left the boudoir. A moment passed, as she turned back; her family was gone, faded with the condensation on the glass of the balcony doors. As she headed down to the first floor, her oldest son balanced on her hip, she prayed that she was doing the right thing, even as her silent declaration still rang loud and clear in her head.

 _It died with Shell._


End file.
